Ordinary Day
by jane0904
Summary: Next in my Mal/Freya series. A simple job has ramifications. Curses, corpses, blood, birthdays ... what more could you ask for? Please read, enjoy, review! Now complete with the epilogue, but more to come.
1. Chapter 1

"What's the name of this place again?"

"_Ling Miao_, sir."

"That just means mausoleum."

"I believe they buried their dead here, sir."

"Cheery." Mal gazed up at the columns carved from the sheer rock face, the sunlight throwing stark black shadows behind them as the heat burned down. "How'd they manage this, anyway?"

"It's said men carved it out with their bare hands."

"Now, why'd they do that, I wonder. Not using tools 'n'all."

"It made them closer to their god, sir."

"_Their_ god? Not ours?"

"I didn't think you believed anymore."

He touched the gold cross on his chest. "Not a case of believing, Zoe. Trust, now, that's a different matter." He stood straighter. "Anyway, that's beside the point. There something going on here I don't know about?"

Zoe hid her smile. "According to River, they considered their god separate from any others. Greater than. _The_ God."

"Huh." He shook his head. "You mean they were heathens?"

"The Alliance allows for the practice of all religions," Zoe pointed out.

"That's magnanimous of 'em." Mal snorted slightly. "Maybe that's why they ain't wiped out the Reavers. They're of a mind that they're maybe a religion all by themselves."

"Certainly a lot of praying going on when they appear, sir."

He glared at her. "Did you just crack a joke?"

"No, sir. Must have been somebody else."

He looked around at the empty gorge around them, the equally empty plain just visible through the mouth. "Like who?"

"Wouldn't like to say, sir."

"_Look, can you just admit I'm the funny one and get on with it?_" Hank said into their ear-pieces.

"You sure these things are gonna work inside?" Mal asked, fiddling with his. "I really wouldn't want to get stuck in the catacombs."

"_Painful. And Kaylee says with the transmitter you're leaving at the entrance they're better than the coms at getting through the rock. Just shorter range._"

Mal looked up to where Serenity sat, her nose just hanging over the lip of the gorge. "You sure?"

"_You want me to tell Kaylee you don't believe her?_"

"Not really." He settled his gunbelt a little more securely. "Jayne, are you … what the hell are you doing?"

The big man turned guiltily. "What?"

"What are … are you carving?"

Jayne quickly put his knife back in its sheath at his waist. "No."

"You know I know when you're lying to me. Your lips move."

Jayne glared, then wilted just a little. "Hell, I ain't the first. Looks like half the 'verse's been by and left its mark." He indicated the amount of graffiti on the wall.

"You didn't have to add to it."

"Got bored."

Mal sighed. "You're not a good example to your son, Jayne."

"He ain't here," Jayne muttered, stating the obvious and rubbing surreptitiously at his initials on the pink stone.

"Sir. The job?" Zoe reminded him.

"Yeah." Mal closed his eyes for a moment to refocus, then said, "Hank, which way?"

The tinny voice sounded in their ears. "_According to that guy's instructions, you need to go down to the end of the main hall and hang a left. You'll get to a junction. Then it'll depend on what you find on the walls._"

"Okay." Mal glanced at Zoe and Jayne. "Time to get stealing." He started forward then paused. "Hank, what's that?"

"_What?_"

"The music." A jangly tune played on what sounded like an old guitar was filtering through their ear pieces.

"_Oh, sorry. Hit the wrong button. Just some stuff I was listening to earlier. You know, when I get bored up here on the bridge. Just to pass –_."

"Hank."

The music cut off.

"Better." Mal straightened his coat and sauntered into the temple.

"_Cao_," Jayne complained. "It's freezin'." He blew out, his breath forming crystals in the light of the torch.

"You'd think the sun would've warmed it through by now," Zoe agreed, her voice lower than usual. "Being as this side of the planet's always facing that way."

"Not sure I want to think too much on that, Zoe," Mal said, telling himself he was shivering from the cold, not the dead, creepy feeling of the place. "End of the hall and hang a left?"

"_That's it_. _Good luck_."

"Huh."

---

_Just a hop, skip and a jump earlier …_

"I ain't celebrating."

"It's your birthday. And you're going to be –"

"No, I ain't. People got that wrong."

"So your Momma lied."

"No. Just … made a mistake."

Freya raised an eyebrow at him as they lay together, just a few yards from the cows they were here to protect. A moth wandered by, attracted by the fire, and was immediately reduced to ash.

"We celebrated mine," she pointed out.

"That was you and me. Nobody else knew." He smiled. "And I keep forgetting you're older'n me."

"Not much."

"Enough." He held her closer, if that were possible. "Look, I don't do birthdays. It ain't me. Not since I was knee high to nothing."

"I bet you looked cute. Blowing out the candles on your cake."

He squirmed a little, which was awkward considering they were bundled up together in a single sleeping bag. It took his mind onto other things for a moment. "I was never cute," he finally said.

"Those blue eyes … all full of hope," she teased.

He kissed her to shut her up. After a long while he put his head back and sighed. "Cute. Huh."

"You ain't gonna get out of this."

"Frey, I'm a grown man. If I don't want fancy parties and gifts wrapped up in pretty ribbons, I don't have to have them. That's for kids like Bethie, and Ethan. Hell, when Jesse gets a bit older you can have all the birthday parties you want. But not for me."

"And if we do? If we want it?"

He glared at her. "You ain't told no-one, have you?"

"Mal, they can count."

"Yeah, well, maybe that's debatable in some cases. But you don't have to confirm it."

"It's just a number, Mal. I've got there. Jayne passed it some time back. It's just a number that comes after –"

"I ain't. And it ain't, either. Just a number. It's … middle age."

"Middle …" She laughed so much she started to hiccup.

"It ain't funny."

"Yes it is." Still, she tried to calm down a little. "Do you think _I'm_ middle-aged?"

He looked down at her as much as he could, her litheness against him, the pressure of her breasts on his chest. "No. Ain't never gonna be, either."

"So why are you?" She shimmied a little and he stifled a groan. "You may have a few scars –"

"A few?"

"Okay, a lot," she amended. "But you're beautiful. My man. My husband."

"I ain't beautiful."

"I think you are."

"You're biased."

"You want I should ask Jayne?"

"Don't even think about it."

"So why should age mean anything?"

"I know it don't. It's just …"

"Being … older."

"Yeah."

"Mal, as I have told you before, I will love you when you're so old you can't get out of the chair without help. When you dribble when you drink. Although that can happen now …" He pinched the only convenient portion of her and she yelped slightly, then grinned. "I love you. I don't care how old you are. And we're having a celebration."

"No, we ain't."

"I don't think you've got much say in it."

"I'll tell how old you are."

"I don't care."

"Sure you don't."

"Mal …"

He sighed heavily. "I'll think about it. Okay?"

"Okay." She put her head against his chest, kissing the soft skin she found there between the buttons she managed to undo on his shirt.

"If we don't get some sleep, we're never gonna be fit to get this herd into town in the morning." He peered across at Jayne, already spark out, his back to the fire.

"Then we should have brought an extra sleeping bag."

"Hey, you said we only needed to bring the one."

She smiled. "Would you have preferred I'd brought two?"

"You know I ain't able to doze off without you next to me."

The smile grew to a grin. "I know what you mean." She stroked what she could reach of his back.

"That ain't no good either. Don't think it's physically possible. And Jayne's right over there."

"We could try."

"We're gonna snuggle. That's it. Ain't gonna … what the hell are you doing?"

"Just shut up."

"Oh. Right." There was a pause. "Hey!"

River slid out of the night and sat down gracefully with her back diplomatically towards the captain and his wife. She'd only needed a glimpse, and it looked like a writhing caterpillar. A flare of sparks as a log broke open lit the small smile on her face.

Her gaze slid back to Jayne. _Are you awake?_ she thought gently towards him.

There was something resembling a growl from the depths of his blanket. _With that pair going on like they are? You'd think they were the newly-weds, not us._ He rolled over so he could look at her. "You okay?" he asked, vocalising softly, little more than a whisper.

"It feels odd," she admitted. "Not having Caleb with us."

"Kaylee's takin' good care of him," Jayne assured her. "And you'd know if there was … well, anything."

"I know." She looked down at her flat belly, toning nicely now that she was able to start exercising a little. "I just feel … bereft."

Jayne stared at her in the firelight, the breeze catching her hair and tangling it like it used to be. "Come on," he said, lifting the blanket.

"I can't," she breathed. "I'm on watch."

"So're Zoe and Hank," he pointed out. "And it ain't like we're gonna sleep. Not with them over there." He glanced across at the caterpillar again, and rolled his eyes at the swiftly stifled giggle that erupted.

River grinned. "Okay," she said, and in a moment was lying next to him, her back pressed against his chest.

"Better?"

"Much." She sighed contentedly.

Another giggle, quickly suppressed by the application of a chest or shoulder.

"Mal sounds like a girl," Jayne complained.

"I think that was Freya."

"You sure?"

"Yes." She pulled his arm around her waist, feeling the palm of his callused hand begin to stroke her stomach as she stared into the flames. "Besides, I make you laugh."

"Yeah, but not in public."

"We're not in public."

"You're splitting hairs."

"And they'll split that sleeping bag if they carry on like that."

"That'd be fun too."

River watched the flames as they danced around each other, devouring the wood and leaping into the darkness. Life was good, she considered.

---

"I'm just saying, we're due a celebration, that's all." Jayne leaned on the railing of the pen and looked out over the mass of cattle.

"You had a celebration," Mal pointed out, waving a fly away with his hand. "On Lazarus. You got drunk, if I recall."

"That was just a party."

Mal raised an eyebrow at him. "So what's a party if it ain't a celebration?"

"It's your birthday," the big man insisted. "Gotta have a party for a birthday."

"No."

"To mark the occasion."

"No."

"Just a little –"

"Jayne, what part of _no_ don't you get?" Mal was beginning to get exasperated.

"Okay, okay, keep your hair on." Jayne pulled his hat lower over his eyes. "I only asked."

"And you got an answer."

It was quiet for a few minutes as they watched River get the last of the cattle into the pens by the simple expedient of asking them. It was somewhat creepy to see the animals look at her as if they understood every word.

"Just a –"

"No!"

"Fine."

Freya closed the gate behind the cattle, letting the heavy latch drop with a satisfying thud.

"Anyway, soon as we're paid we're leaving. Got another job."

"Another one?" Jayne glared at him.

"Yeah." Mal grinned. "Nice to be working so much."

"Not if we can't have a party once in a –"

"Jayne."

"So what is this job?"

"I'll tell you all once we're home."

"Shiny." Jayne stared at the horizon. "Course, it'd be more fun if we could tell 'em there'd be a –"

Mal turned on him. "Go. Now. Take River and get back to the ship. And one more word about a party and you'll be walking to the next planet."

"Don't get snitty."

"I am not …" Mal took a deep breath, just as their employer came towards them, the clink of money catching his practised ear. "Just … go." He added quickly, "And no getting anyone else to ask, either."

Jayne grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

"You get the feeling that went too smooth?" Simon asked, following Kaylee up the stairs towards the galley.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Just … unexpected. No bullets to remove, knife wounds to stitch up … not like our usual jobs at all."

"You should look on the bright side," his wife said, smiling at him over her shoulder. "Means you didn't have to clean up the infirmary."

"No, that's good, honestly. Just unusual."

"Stands to reason some jobs are gonna go well. It's the law of averages." She stepped down into the dining area.

"Then why do I feel like the other shoe is about to drop?" Simon muttered.

Everyone was already assembled, except for Hank, who hurried in from the opposite end.

"We're off," he said as he dropped into the seat next to Zoe. "Just need a course."

"And I'll be glad to give it to you." Mal looked around at his crew. "Looks like things are going our way for a change," he said, smiling. "We got paid, and another job's fallen into our laps."

"What kind of job, sir?" his first mate asked.

"Simple retrieval, at least from what Sam says."

"Sam Nazir?" Her eyebrow raised.

"I conjure he's the only Sam we know, unless you're considering Sam McQueen, and he's been dead eight years." He chuckled. "Seem to recall burying him too, so if it's him he must be mighty pissed at us."

Zoe didn't comment on her captain's apparent good humour, and just gazed at him.

"So Sam's found us a job?" Freya asked.

"That he has. A pal of his back on Ariel wants us to pick something up for him. Good money, too."

"Are we allowed to know what it is?" Simon inquired.

Mal shrugged a little. "Not rightly sure. We're bound for that planet –" He glanced at Hank, who nodded. " – and we'll be given all the details in person by the man who wants to hire us."

"He's not doing it through a third party?" Zoe was surprised.

"I don't think he does this kinda thing at all. Least, not usually." Mal smiled. "He's offering damn good money, too."

"Payment upfront?"

"He's not _that_ stupid. Half now, half on delivery."

"Just who is this _he_ we're talking about?" Hank wanted to know.

"A professor at Ariel University. One Dr Bell."

"Randolph Bell?" Simon's interest was tweaked.

"That's the feller. You know him?"

"_Of_ him. He's an archaeologist. Very highly regarded in his field."

"I've read several of his books," River put in. "He's brilliant."

"He certainly is," Simon agreed, then shook his head slightly. "Which makes it all the more unlikely that he'd be dealing with …" His voice trailed off as he realised what he was about to say, and finished instead, somewhat lamely, with, "us."

"You mean crooks?" Mal's good mood wasn't dented. He had money in the safe, hadn't been shot, had another job in hand … and, best of all, he'd put Jayne off the idea of a party. "Doc, we know what we are. And there's no saying this is illegal. Not yet, anyway." He turned to Hank. "How long to Ariel?"

The pilot considered. "Below or above the radar?"

"Above. We ain't carrying anything we shouldn't." He glanced at River and Simon. "Well, no more'n usual."

"Then if we're sensible, best part of a week. Can your professor wait that long?"

Mal shrugged. "He ain't my professor. But if'n he's an archaeologist I conjure he can. The stuff he works with has been around a long time already – a week more ain't gonna make that much difference."

"I wanted to be an archaeologist after I read his books," River said dreamily, her eyes focused somewhere out beyond the hull.

"Yeah?" Jayne asked curiously. There was always something new to learn about this wife of his.

"For about seven point three four three seconds. Then I realised it meant digging up dead people." Her nose wrinkled.

"I can see that might be a problem." He grinned at her, and she smiled back, leaning into his shoulder.

"What's this guy's area, anyway?" Kaylee asked. "I knew a guy once, back on Phoros, used to go around looking for old things. Mostly from the first settlers."

"I gather it's more of an academic exercise for Dr Bell," Simon explained. "He's an expert in ancient religions, although by its very nature that tends to mean studying artefacts already discovered."

"Not like he can go and dig up back on the old home planet, eh?" Hank said, trying to sound knowledgeable.

Everyone laughed until Mal clapped his hands and said, "Okay, you got jobs, go do 'em," and the galley began to clear.

Simon paused. "Mal, if you're going to meet Dr Bell, can I come with you?"

Mal looked at the young doctor. "He a hero of yours?"

"River wasn't the only one who read his books. Actually, they were mine to begin with, but she stole them."

"That's my albatross." Mal smiled.

"But I'd like to meet him."

Mal pondered a moment. "I've a notion that might not be a bad idea." His eyes narrowed just a little. "But you have to stay close to us. It's Ariel, after all. And you ain't coming at all unless Kaylee's got that mini-beacon going."

"I know she's working on it." He glanced to where his wife was standing talking to Jayne, just outside the engine room.

"Then you might make yourself useful. I wouldn't be surprised if this professor didn't use a whole lot of long sentences I don't understand."

Simon might have taken him at his word if the captain's blue eyes hadn't been sparkling a little.

---

The week went by, as weeks do, and Mal felt the urge to space Jayne only a dozen times as it became apparent the older man had recruited others to his cause.

"Cap, you got a minute?"

Mal looked up from the accounts. "What's up, little Kaylee?" he asked, smiling. "And should I be bothered that you're asking while I'm cooking the books?"

She grinned. "Nope. Nothing like that."

"Good. For a moment there I thought maybe Jayne was getting you to do his dirty work for him."

"Oh." Her smile stayed put, but it was an effort.

"Kaylee?" The cold realisation crept up his spine. "You're not … are you?"

"It'd be fun, Cap'n," she said, her tone wheedling. "Streamers, cake, balloons –"

"Balloons?"

"Yeah. You know. Big things you blow up."

"Thought that was Alliance skiffs."

She swatted him playfully on the arm. "But it'd be good."

Mal shook his head. "Not happening."

"But –"

"Kaylee, read my lips. It's – not – happening."

"But Bethie –"

Mal stared in shock. "You got that little girl involved in this?"

"Well, no," she admitted. "But –"

"I hear another 'but' coming from you and I won't be pleased."

Her chin jutted forward. "You planning on giving me a date with the airlock?"

"Not … as such. But I ain't above telling Simon to remonstrate with you." At the look on her face as she obviously remembered a somewhat happy and fulfilling remonstration, he rapidly changed his mind. "Or maybe not. But you might find yourself on septic vat duty for the foreseeable."

"That ain't fair."

"Life, as I'm sure I told you once or twice before, ain't." He tapped the ledger in front of him. "Now, go finish that beacon, otherwise your other half's not gonna be pleased when I tell him he can't go visiting."

"Visiting?" Kaylee asked, her radar twitching.

"Go ask Simon." He watched her walk away with a calculating look in her eye, and wondered why the doctor hadn't thought fit to tell his wife he'd asked to meet Dr Bell. Probably knew she'd tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't getting off on a Core planet, and that was that. Mal couldn't help the smile. That was one argument he wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall for.

---

"Mal, you got a mo?" Hank asked, turning in the pilot's seat to look at him as he came up the steps.

"I'm here, ain't I?"

"Unless you're a very solid optical illusion, yes."

Mal glared at the words _very_ and _solid_ so close together, but said, "We likely to run into any patrols 'fore we hit Ariel?"

Hank shook his head. "Nope. Nearest cruiser is the De Gama, and that's heading away from us."

"Good. Keep it that way." He hitched his thumbs into his back pockets. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Oh. Yeah." Hank turned back to the console, suddenly taking an interest in one of the dinosaurs still ranged there. "I was just wondering what you'd like for your birthday. You know, in case I lose my mind entirely and decide to buy –"

"No."

Hank looked up. "What?"

"There is no birthday. No gifts. No cake or shiny balloons."

"Balloons?"

"No celebration of any kind." Mal stood firm, his mouth a fixed line.

"What, not even with Freya?" Hank teased. "Not even a little bit?"

"If she … if we … what we do in the privacy of our own bunk is our own affair." Mal took a deep breath. "And tell Jayne to stop this."

"Jayne?" Hank almost pulled it off, the innocent look, except for a slight twitch in the corner of his left eye. "What makes you think Jayne's got anything to do with this? I was just asking my captain and friend what he'd like as a present."

"Peace and quiet," Mal said, striding off the bridge. "Something that seems to be in very short supply on my boat at the moment."

Hank sighed and reached for the com.

---

"Sir, could I –"

"No!" Mal slammed the coffee mug down on the counter, splashing very hot liquid over his hand, then having to suppress a gasp at the sensation.

Zoe just looked at him, no expression on her face as she watched him lick at his skin. "I'd run that under cold water, if I were you," she said.

He glared at her but did as she suggested, feeling the burning subside. "No parties," he said, glaring at her.

"Of course not," she agreed.

Taken aback, his jaw dropped a little. "What?"

"No parties. I understand. You've never been one for celebrating. Not all the time I've known you."

"No. I haven't." He was losing ground here somehow. "So you weren't going to …?"

"No, sir."

"Oh." Picking up a tea cloth, he wiped his hand. "Then what was it?"

"I just wanted to ask if we were going to have some time on Ariel to get supplies. We're running low on a few items."

"Supplies."

"Yes, sir. And balloons definitely aren't on the list."

He tried to gather the remnants of his dignity. "Yeah, I guess there'll be time. Although I'm not too keen on too many of you all leaving the ship unattended."

"I'm sure River can fight off any intruders, sir."

He finally smiled. "I guess she can." Then a thought occurred to him. "You're not trying reverse psychology on me, are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir." She smiled at him and turned back towards the bunks.

Mal wiped up the remaining liquid from the counter top and told himself off for thinking the worst of his first mate.

Outside the bridge, just around the corner by the stairs, Jayne was waiting for Zoe.

"Well?" he asked.

"I tried."

"No good?"

"No."

"Gorram it."

---

Ariel was an oddity. Viewed from the sky she shone like a silver jewel: it was only up closer that it was obvious a lot of that shine was from factories on the edge of the seas.

Ariel City, on the other hand, was a mass of skyscrapers and patches of green, as if the buildings had thrust up through the landscape rather than been built on it.

Freya looked out and tried to suppress the tremor that threatened to run through her.

"It ain't like last time," Mal said softly, putting his hand on her waist, knowing what she was thinking. "You're well, and nothing like that's gonna happen again."

She nodded, but couldn't help seeing Dr Yi's office in her mind's eye, hearing her own voice telling the diminutive woman what Wing had done to her, what others had put her through, feeling the tears on her cheeks as she spoke.

Mal slid his arm around her, and thought as strongly as he could, _You're healed. She did a damn good job, and I'm grateful. But we ain't gonna be here but a couple of hours. That's all._

Freya looked into his blue eyes and managed to smile. "I know," she whispered.

Hank glanced over his shoulder at them. "You know, I feel like Ethan. I know you're talking without using words, and it's downright annoying."

"You really want to hear what we're saying?" Mal asked, his voice dangerously low. "Considering what it might be?"

"Well, no, not if it's ..." Hank coughed and ostentatiously adjusted their trajectory. "Coming in to land, folks," he said with only slightly forced gaiety. "Make sure all your seats are in an upright position, and please tip your pilot on leaving."

"I'm gonna get Simon to put something in your coffee," Mal threatened, but his lips were twitching, as Freya noted. He thumbed the com. "We're landing in Ariel City, people. As usual, no-one gets off unless they've cleared it with me first, but since no-one actually takes any notice of me anymore, those of you deciding to mutiny should be ready in the cargo bay in ten. And Kaylee? Stop fiddling and bring that beacon." He released the button and looked at his wife. "You'd better be getting ready."

"Me?" She was surprised.

"I've been thinking, and it occurs to me, if Simon's coming along, maybe you should too. Make a good impression on our prospective employer. He might up the ante a little."

"And what do you suggest I wear?" she asked, turning to gaze into his blue eyes.

"Clothes would be good. But I was thinking perhaps one of those bits of frippery Dillon got you."

"I was pregnant then."

"And some of 'em have belts. Can't you just hitch one in a little?" He winced as she trod on his foot.

---

"You found 'em yet?"

"Not so far."

"Gorram it, there ain't that many rust-buckets out there, are there?"

"I'm doing my best. And you'd better calm down, else you'll tear that open again. You know what that doc said back on Argus. And that infection's only just clearing up. You need to –"

"I need to find that _ye zhong_ Reynolds! That'll do me more good than anything else. So get looking."


	3. Chapter 3

"I feel naked," Freya complained, for at least the fifth time in the last hour.

"You look beautiful," Mal assured her, walking close beside her.

"No, I don't." She glanced down at herself. "This feels wrong."

Mal hid the smile that wanted to bloom, as he looked her up and down. "It's fine." She was wearing one of the dresses Dillon had bought her while she and Mal were quarantined on Persephone, this one a burnt orange with red trim. As suggested, she'd cinched it in with a belt, and it flowed prettily around her knees. "It's very pretty," he added quickly at her look.

"I'm getting a breeze where's there's no right to be one."

"At least you're armed," he pointed out, nodding towards the black, waist length jacket she'd topped the outfit off with. Hiding underneath, snug against her chest, was her shoulder holster and snub-nosed pistol, a gift from Mal. "If anything, I feel more naked than you."

"I'm just glad you listened to reason and didn't try to wear your brown coat."

He chuckled, tugging briefly on his own grey cord jacket. "You think they might have objected?"

"I think there might have been a riot." She looked at their surroundings. "Particularly here."

The main campus of Ariel University looked like something out of an old vid, squatting on the landscape like it did. None of the buildings were more than three storeys tall, and they spread out across several acres.

"It was designed by Ferrinaci," Simon said as they walked through grounds maintained to within an inch of their life. "He was inspired by the great universities of Earth-that-was, and attempted to make it as conducive to learning as possible."

"Sure looks out of place here," Mal responded. "And how come nobody's smiling?" he added, watching the students hurrying past them, heads down, books clutched to their chests.

Simon's own lips quirked. "You have an odd idea of the Core, Mal. Not everyone's happy, not by a long chalk. Otherwise people like Sam wouldn't be able to make a living."

"Guess not."

"And university can take a lot out of you. There are such high standards to reach and maintain, and if you slip, just once … well, it can bring disgrace to the whole family."

Mal thought back to his own schooldays in the small building next to the church on Shadow, Mrs Gingrich at the front, trying to force some sort of knowledge into kids who only wanted to be outside. He'd enjoyed learning, more than he sometimes admitted, but sometimes even he had to heed the call of the wind whipping past the windows, or the sun beating down. And playing hooky on days like that made weeding the garden as punishment worth it. "I'm kinda glad I'm uneducated," he said softly.

"Don't kid yourself," Freya said, looping her arm casually through his. "You've got more intelligence than most people I know."

"Nah," Mal grinned. "Low cunning, that's about all."

Simon was glancing behind him. "Is Jayne still with us?"

Mal nodded, not even needing to look. "I told him to keep his distance, but he'll be there." He eyed the students again. "Although it's a good job there seems to be a fashion for camo gear," he observed. "Otherwise he'd stand out like a sore thumb."

"Maybe you should have had River come with –" Freya began, but both men immediately spoke over her.

"No."

She narrowed her eyes at them. "It was just a suggestion."

"It's bad enough the doc coming with us," Mal said firmly. "Not having her in any danger too."

"You think it's dangerous?" Simon asked, trying hard not to look around to see if there were Feds hiding in the bushes.

"A turn of phrase, Simon. Calm down. And no, I don't think it's dangerous, but I'm not putting anyone at unnecessary risk." He caught the look on Freya's face. "No more than they are." He paused at the bottom of the steps leading to the main doors. "Well, here we are."

Inside the large main hall it was cool and dimly lit, with a huge double staircase winding upwards at the back. A small desk was situated dead centre, illuminated by the sunlight shafting through a glass dome above, and for a single moment Mal wondered if a magician was going to appear and the show was going to start. Exactly the impression the architect had aimed for, he decided. Make everyone in awe and you've already won half the battle. He strolled across the marble floor, towards a bored young woman sitting gazing at a screen.

"Morning," he said, smiling.

She dragged her eyes off whatever she was watching, and gazed at him instead. "Yes?"

"Name's Reynolds. I've got an appointment with Dr Bell. He in?"

The young woman looked him up and down, apparently not too impressed by what she saw, then back to her screen. Tapping at the keyboard with electric blue nails, she didn't even bother looking round again as she said, "First floor, room 15. You can walk up or there's an elevator over there." She pointed into a dark corner.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Mal said, his smile still warm, if unappreciated. Turning back to the others, he nodded. "First floor."

Heels echoing hollowly in the suddenly empty hall, they walked towards the stairs.

"Their security's pretty lax," Simon commented quietly as they started to ascend.

"Not that lax." Freya nodded towards the small cameras sitting discreetly in each corner and above every door. "There's not a dead spot anywhere."

The young man pulled his hat a little lower over his eyes.

Kaylee had been adamant about that.

"_You keep that on," she'd said, placing the trilby firmly on his head. "No knowing who'll be looking, and I don't want anyone to recognise you."_

"_Of course." He let her fuss around him as they stood in the cargo bay. Ever since Mal had let slip that he wanted to meet Dr Bell and was going to accompany them, she'd been the same. At least it was better than the arguing._

"_And you're to do what the Cap'n tells you. If he says run, you run. No trying to play heroics." Kaylee adjusted the collar of his jacket. _

"_I'll be careful."_

"_And if anyone asks to see your ID, just smile and hand it over. We paid good coin for that, and it should pass inspection." Her brown eyes were troubled, but she was hiding it well._

"_I know." He saw her mouth open again, and he put his finger across it, stopping her from speaking. "Kaylee, I'll be fine."_

"_I still say you shouldn't go." Kaylee brushed an invisible piece of lint off her husband's jacket. "You just don't seem to be taking this seriously." She stepped away from him. "What Theo said, about someone wanting you, you seem to think it's a joke."_

_He shook his head. "Not a joke. Never that. But I can't live my life hiding my face under a cushion. I tried that, and it didn't work."_

"_I know, but –"_

_He moved closer to her. "Kaylee, I'll be sensible. I'll do whatever Mal tells me. I won't wander off and_ _follow someone who says he has puppies to play with." He laughed as she punched him lightly. "I'm a grown man, Kaylee. It's not like I haven't been a fugitive before. Still am. Things like that just don't seem to change. But life goes on."_

"Here we are," Mal said, interrupting his reverie. "Room 15."

---

River sat on the bridge, her feet drawn up on the seat. Caleb was in a small carrycot Jayne had devised on the floor next to her.

"You okay?" Hank asked from behind her.

She turned the chair to look at him. "Trying to think."

"Oh. Well, if you want I can go away again."

"No." A sudden smile flashed across her face. "I'd like the company."

"Good." He grinned back and crossed to the co-pilot's seat, dropping into it and leaning forward, looking into the carrycot. "You know, I'm sincerely hoping that seeing this little one is gonna make Zoe come over all broody again."

"She will," River promised. "I see more children."

"Yeah?" He sat back. "Lots?"

She seemed to count, her fingers dashing over each other for maybe fifteen seconds before she looked at him. "Yes."

He laughed. "So long as at least one of 'em's mine, I'll be happy."

"Be happy," she assured him.

"Okay!" He slapped his hands together. "She's out picking up those supplies but soon as she gets back, maybe we'll get started."

"Good idea."

"So what're you thinking about?" he asked, swinging round to idly scan the dials.

"I'm … not sure." She bit her lip.

She immediately had his full attention again. "Something bad?"

"I'm not sure," she repeated, shaking her head. "Caleb is making things woolly."

"Is he … I mean, if he is –"

"No. Not psychic."

Hank breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good." Then he realised what he'd said. "I mean, as long as you think it's good. Otherwise I think it's bad. Unless –"

"It's good," River reassured him. "He won't miss it."

"Then I'm glad. But how come you're … woolly?"

"I'm his mother," she said simply. "He's part of me. I worry."

Hank smiled. "I guess. But that doesn't make me feel any better about what's troubling you."

"Nor me," River agreed. "But I'll keep trying."

---

The door to Room 15 was open a little, swinging silently on well-oiled hinges as Mal knocked. "Dr Bell?"

"Come in, come in. Put it down by the window."

"Well, I would, sir, but as I don't have it …"

"What?"

Mal stepped into the room, trying to find the source of the voice. "My name's Malcolm Reynolds, sir. I was led to believe you were expecting us."

A head poked up from behind a wall of books on an ornately-carved wooden desk. "You don't have the scanner I requested?"

"No, sir."

"Damn." The head disappeared again, and there was a click and a hum. "Dixon, where the hell's that scanner?"

A disembodied voice floated up. _"I told you already, Dr Bell. Dr Jackson's got it first. As soon as he's finished we'll be –"_

"That's not good enough! I have a number of items I need to examine closely, and it's imperative I have use of that equipment immediately! Jackson's pet project will just have to wait."

The man on the other end spoke soothingly, and it was obvious he'd had this conversation a number of times. _"Dr Bell, let me speak to Dr Jackson again. Maybe I can persuade him to let you have it for a few hours."_

"A few … I need it for at least a week!"

"_That's the best I can do. But I'll get back to you."_ There was an audible click and the hum ceased.

"Young whippersnapper," Dr Bell grumbled.

"Uh, sir?" Mal said again.

The head appeared. "What?"

"Sam Nazir said you needed a ship." Mal decided bluntness was probably more efficient than honey in this case.

Dr Randolph Bell stood up, revealing himself to rival Jayne in height, if not in build. He was thin, his clothes hanging off his frame as if he'd been dieting and hadn't bothered to buy new attire. According to Simon, he was in his seventies, but that wasn't obvious, as despite the mass of wild grey hair framing his head, his face was unlined, almost childish in aspect. His eyes, though, peering out from behind small, old-fashioned spectacles, were bright and full of intelligence. "Captain Reynolds?"

Mal smiled. "That's me."

Dr Bell came out from behind his desk, holding out his hand. "Do forgive me. Dealing with the bureaucracy in this place tends to make a man occasionally insane."

"I know the feeling." They shook, and Mal was surprised at the strength in the older man's hand. Letting go he nodded towards the others. "This is my wife, Freya."

"Ma'am." Dr Bell bowed a little, a twinkle now in those eyes. "If I were a decade or so younger I might be chasing you myself."

She smiled. "And I think I'd have to run fast, wouldn't I?"

He chuckled. "I admit I had rather a reputation with the ladies."

Mal only raised an eyebrow, but said, "And this is Simon Mara. He's a long-time admirer of yours."

Simon stepped forward, his own hand out. "Dr Bell, this is a great honour. I've read most of your books, and it's a privilege to finally meet you."

Dr Bell smiled, even as Mal hid his own at the gushing by the usually very self-contained young man. "That's nice to know. Always makes a man feel appreciated when a boy like yourself feels the need to compliment him."

"My sister and I used to argue about your conclusions all the time."

Now Dr Bell laughed. "Healthy debate, that's what I like to see."

"Yes, well, as amusing as this is to see my medic here get all juiced up, I think we'd better get down to business," Mal put in quickly. "This job. Sam wasn't specific as to the task, though, except to say it's a retrieval."

"Yes, yes." Dr Bell moved towards the door. "But shall we go and talk outside? It's far too nice a day to be hiding away in these dusty rooms."

Mal glanced at Freya, who nodded very slightly. It certainly didn't look like this was going to be anything legal, after all.

---

Jayne leaned against a tree and sighed. Given the quality of his day so far, and the amazingly small likelihood of being able to shoot something any time soon, he was bored. He'd spent a few minutes successfully creeping out a group of students until they moved away, but that was just small time.

Still, there were the two girls over by the fountain, watching him. Pretty admiring glances, too, he noted. He stood a little straighter. Just 'cause he had a kid, and was married to a woman who'd render him soprano if he even considered being with anyone else - not that he would - didn't mean he couldn't appreciate being looked at. In a casual, entirely non-sexual kind of way.

Made a change from trying to figure out how to make the Cap's party a surprise.

A flash of orange at the front doors made him take notice again as Mal, Freya and Simon stepped out into the sunshine, a tall, skinny man at their side. "Heads up," he murmured to himself, his hand resting nonchalantly on his hip, close to the gun stuck into the back of his pants.

---

Dr Bell led the way towards a circle of concrete seats, with no bushes or trees too close for anyone to hide behind. He sat down and indicated the others should join him.

"Doctor, much as I appreciate the fresh air -" Mal began.

"It's just a precaution," Dr Bell insisted. "Walls have been known to have ears."

"Even here?"

"You'd be amazed. Please, sit, sit."

Mal reluctantly did as he was asked, nevertheless seeing Jayne lurking out of the corner of his eye. "Dr Bell, can we get down to business?"

Finally satisfied, the old man nodded. "Sam says you're trustworthy."

"You've known Sam a long time?"

"A number of years. He treated my wife." Dr Bell half-smiled. "And I notice you didn't answer my question."

"Never realised you'd asked one." Mal leaned forward. "So just what is this item you want us to retrieve?"

Dr Bell gazed at him, as if he was coming to a decision. Eventually he lifted his chin. "Do you know Aegis?"

Mal nodded. "Third moon of Lian Juinn. Just outside the orbit of Londinium."

"There's a rock temple, and information has just come into my possession that tells of something hidden there so precious as to be … well, priceless." He adjusted his glasses. "It was brought from Earth-that-was, and may well be several thousand years old." His eyes glittered with avarice behind the steel frames.

Freya spoke. "So why hasn't anyone found it before?"

"The temple has been studied for years, but my information leads me to believe, however, there is a secret chamber, unknown to anyone."

"What about traps? Deadfalls?" Simon asked, his face eager. He looked at Mal. "Secret chambers are meant to be just that - secret. The builders would create elaborate and usually fatal snares for anyone trying to break in and rob it."

"My information shows all of them, and how to avoid them," Dr Bell said quickly. "That's why I'm offering you this rather handsome amount to get it for me. It will offset any danger you might -"

"Whoa, there, doc. You saying you're not coming with us?"

Dr Bell shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid that isn't possible. I have classes to teach, papers to grade … and my health just won't allow it. I don't travel anywhere nowadays." He fumbled at his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, flicking the top open with his thumb and shaking two small pink tablets into his palm. Tossing them into his mouth he swallowed, sliding the bottle back, but not before Simon had got a quick look at the label.

Mal was about to complain but felt Freya's hand on his. Instead he said, "Okay. I understand that. But I think this means we should get a little extra payment, don't you? If it's as dangerous as my friend here suggests, and as valuable as you say, I conjure you can go a mite higher."

Dr Bell glared at Mal, then nodded slowly. "I can go another hundred. But that's it."

"Two hundred and fifty," Freya put in, surprising them all. "In advance."

Mal managed to resist staring at her by a hair. "As my wife says. An extra two hundred and fifty."

The professor scowled at her, taking in the pretty dress, the sandals, then really looking at her face. There was steel in those brown eyes, as well as understanding. "Two hundred and fifty," he reluctantly agreed. Glancing around first, making sure no-one was watching, he dragged an envelope from inside his waistcoat. "I assumed you'd prefer cash."

"You assumed right." Mal checked inside before tucking it into his own jacket. Frey was right. Two hundred and fifty extra. "And the information we need?"

Bell held out a data tab. "It's all on there. Maps, instructions, including a description of the piece."

"Good." Mal stood up. "And we deliver it back here to you?"

"No, no!" Bell said urgently, climbing to his feet. "Not here." Again he glared about. "I have a place, by the ocean. The address is on the tab. Meet me there and I'll give you the rest of your money." Now the deal was sealed he seemed embarrassed, anxious to get away. "Good day, captain," he said, shaking hands quickly and hurrying off.

Mal looked at Freya. "How did you –"

"He knew as soon as he told you about the job you'd ask for more. He was just trying to get away with as little as possible." She looked slightly abashed. "It was at the forefront of his mind."

"Why, that miserable, cheap –"

Freya laughed. "What, did you think all people in the Core were honest and law-abiding?"

Mal smiled. "No. But it kinda makes me like 'em a bit more." They began to walk back towards where they'd parked the old mule, picking up their shadow on the way. "So, is he paranoid?" Mal asked Simon. "'Cause he sure as hell seemed like it."

The young man shrugged. "It's a cut-throat world in academia," he admitted. "Well, not necessarily actually … although I do recall an incident I heard about once over a particular translation … but usually there's no blood spilled."

"Sounds like civilisation is anything but, Simon."

"Occasionally it has its excitement." He shook his head. "Still, he isn't wrong about being too sick to travel. He's taking Phynotriaxin." The others looked at him blankly. "It's an experimental drug - at least it didn't have full Elect approval when I was at the hospital."

"What does it do?" Mal asked.

"Stops a man's body ingesting itself."

"It what?" Jayne exclaimed.

"You saw how Dr Bell was so ill? His clothes?"

"He was thin, surely," Mal said, getting uncomfortable.

"Did you notice the colour of his eyes? The whites were very white, almost bluish, while his fingernails were thick, grooved? I'd say he has Kobe Syndrome."

"Is it contagious?" Mal glanced at Freya, wishing he hadn't brought her now.

"No. It's genetic, almost exclusively confined to inhabitants of the northern continent of Sihnon." He took off his hat to run his fingers through his dark hair. "Fortunately for them, many of the families affected have a great deal of money and influence, so a cure is being sought quite actively." Placing the trilby back on his head, he went on, "It causes the body to, well, turn on. All the fat-burning cells work all the time, and a patient literally starves to death even as he gorges."

"Treatable?" Freya asked.

"Controllable. If the drugs don't kill you first. Although I've heard good things about Phynotriaxin."

"Well, let's hope he stays alive long enough to take delivery and pay us our due," Mal put in.

"We haven't got it yet, though," Freya commented. "And I get the feeling it's not going to be as easy as it sounds."

---

"They were on Ariel."

"What? When?"

"A few hours ago."

"Get us there."

"They left."

"Gorram it!"

"Calm down. They've booked a slot back in three days."

"Can we get there in time?"

"It'll be a push."

"Try. Burn out the rutting engines, I don't care. Just get us there."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Isn't anyone reading this? Let me know if you are.

* * *

"You want a history lesson?" Simon was surprised.

Mal leaned back in his chair at the dining table and smiled a little. "You've read Dr Bell's books, and I know you've taken a look at the data disk. I had a notion you could give us a bit of background, without getting into all the begatting, of course."

"I don't actually know who begat who."

"Good. So you can be brief."

"Well, I –

"Try."

Simon pushed his plate away, and looked around the table at the crew's faces. Kaylee's was bright, expectant, while River seemed to be trying not to laugh. Hank was encouraging, Zoe placid. Jayne wasn't quite surly as he finished the last of the food. Most of the children were sitting wide-eyed, listening to every word. Only Freya seemed vaguely troubled. "As it happens I have been doing some research, so I suppose I could … but if I get too long-winded or boring, let me know."

"Don't worry," Mal said, smiling. "We will."

For a long moment Simon gave him a cool stare, then began. "According to all the history books, the sect that settled Aegis was started by a man called Levi Bailey. He was a priest back on Earth-that-was, with some radical ideas on religion."

"Like what?"

"For one that no-one should own anything. That it all belonged to the church, and the man in charge would apportion it out according to need. His intentions weren't bad, but that kind of thing is open to all sorts of corruption."

"Most good ideas are," Mal muttered, then waved his hand. "Go on."

"Anyway, the radical ideas would probably have stayed that, just ideas, except at that point the generation ships were leaving. Bailey took the followers he had and got himself a place on board. He knew he'd never see a blue sky again, and it appears to have sent him … well, crazy."

"Nothing wrong with a little craziness," Jayne put in stoutly, and River squeezed his thigh.

"This type should have been treated, but it wasn't. He became a zealot, a fanatic, and his ideas began to take on a fantastical turn. He began advocating …" He stopped, glanced at the children. "There were things he preached that were really bad, but there was something about being cooped up on board ship for that long made people listen to him. By the time of his death it's said he had over five hundred devout followers. By the landings it was more like five thousand. At least two of the ships were almost totally converted."

"Pirates?" Bethie put in, her eyes wide.

"No, sweetie, not pirates," her mother said quickly.

"Simon, is this all provable truth, or just rumour and innuendo?" Freya asked.

The young man shrugged. "A bit of both, I think. But there were at least enough people for his ideas to be kept alive."

"I'm surprised the authorities allowed it," Zoe said, removing Ben's bowl from in front of him where he was surreptitiously wiping his fingers around it.

"It happened over so long a period of time no-one really took notice of it until it was too late. By then they were approaching this system, and the people in charge realised they had to do something." He stood up so he could pace, as if walking made it easier to remember. "All they did, though, was practise the 'out of sight, out of mind' scenario."

"All the other terraformed planets had been pre-claimed," River explained. "Aegis was the only one left. I remember from one of my history classes."

"It's in geosynchronous orbit," Simon went on, "and there was nothing they could do to alter that."

"Daddy, what's that mean?" Ethan asked in a stage whisper. "Gee-cin-krus."

"Geosynchronous. Just that the same side stays facing the sun all the time, so it's always day or always night," Mal explained.

"Oh." Ethan filed the information away. "Thank you."

Freya smiled, smoothing the hair from his forehead.

"Actually Aegis has a number of occasions when there's an eclipse, from Lian Juinn or the other moons," Simon added. "I believe the Levites worked it into their religion, so that when they were all in precession and -"

"Simon," Mal interrupted. "You know how you said if you got long-winded or boring …"

The young man blushed a little. "Sorry."

"Anyway, Levites?" Hank asked.

"That's what they called themselves, although by this time Levi Bailey wouldn't have recognised them. They'd absorbed parts of religions as diverse as Buddhism, Hinduism, Catholicism -"

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"No, except they'd also picked up on some of the more outrageous aspects from the Aztecs and Mayans, and some obscure sects I can't even remember." He leaned against the counter. "It's not surprising they were considered unstable."

"So they were given Aegis?" Zoe prompted.

Simon nodded. "To do with as they wished. Terraforming hadn't been that successful, and nobody else wanted it, it had nothing worth mining, the soil wasn't even good enough for farming … I think the powers that be hoped they'd die out, solve the problem that way. Which they did, surprisingly quickly, but not before they'd built a handful of temples."

Mal leaned forward. "And this _Ling Miao _is one of them."

"Yes. Carved from solid rock."

"You think Bell's right? There's something there to find?"

Simon sat down again. "I don't know. The whole complex was explored pretty thoroughly, more than once, as there was always rumours of golden statues encrusted with diamonds hidden somewhere -"

"Gold?" Jayne sat up straighter.

"It's just a story," River said quietly.

"There's always stories like that," Simon added. "Every tomb, every sacred site has a tale of a golden crown or sceptre … they're never true."

"So what exactly is this thing we're gonna go steal?" Hank asked.

"A plaque, carved from wood. The Levites collected a large amount of religious ephemera, and most of it is now in Alliance museums. But this piece is considered to be the oldest by far and the most sacred. And it was never found."

"So Dr Bell could be right." Mal pursed his lips slightly. "Although I won't be surprised if we find the thing's gone."

"Are we really stealing?" Kaylee asked, glancing at Bethie. "Not just … discovering it?"

"I think we'd better call a spade a spade here, _mei-mei_," Mal said gently. "Aegis is a protected planet, an Alliance heritage site." He chuckled. "From a place to dump undesirables, to annexing the whole kit and kaboodle … sounds just like the Feds."

"Well, we're likely to find out in around eighteen hours," his pilot added, lifting Ben onto his lap. "Just enough time for everyone to get a good night's sleep." He stood up. "Which I'm planning on starting. Honey?"

Zoe nodded, getting to her feet. "Good idea." She smiled at everyone. "Goodnight."

The crew dispersed to their own quarters, and Mal could hear Bethie as she went down the stairs.

"But if it's treasure it must be pirates," she was saying. "_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest _…"

"Where did you hear that?" Kaylee asked, her voice a little disapproving.

"Auntie River." Bethie started to sing, "_Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum _…"

Mal chuckled. "I think Auntie River's going to be in trouble," he said to Freya where she still sat next to him. When she didn't answer, he looked closely at her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, giving him a brief smile.

"Why do I get the feeling you're not being truthful?"

"I wouldn't know." She stood up, lifting a sleeping Jesse out of the high chair into her arms. The little girl wriggled then settled down again, her arms around her mother's neck, not waking.

"Frey, from previous experience I'm getting the notion you have a problem with this job."

"No more than usual."

Ethan held out his arms, and his father picked him up, perching him on his hip. "But there's something." They headed towards their bunk, Mal switching the light off behind them. "Tell me."

"It's …" She stopped outside the hatch. "It's just a niggle."

"Something about the job?"

She gazed at him, her brown eyes unreadable. "We've never been grave robbers before, Mal."

"They're long gone, Frey."

"It just … feels wrong."

"Most all the jobs we do _are_ wrong somewhere along the line. It's the way we have to live. Much as I'd like to be able to take legitimate jobs all the time, they just ain't out there. Feds've seen to that. So we do what we can to survive."

"I know."

Mal felt a thread of something cold slide down his spine. "Is that it? Just a concern we're breaking the law again?"

"I think so." She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"When's River gonna stop pushing out this static?" Mal asked, opening the hatch. "I thought, soon as she'd given birth, it'd be better."

"It's settling down, Mal," she assured him. "It takes a while getting used to being a mother."

"Being a Pa too," he agreed, smiling as he glanced down at Ethan, who had laid his head on his shoulder and was fast asleep, drooling just a little. "Not that I'd give it up for the world."

"Me neither." She laughed. "Come on, let's get these two to bed."

"You up for an early night?"

She didn't reply, just kissed him lightly and climbed carefully down into their bunk.

---

Aegis had a tiny temperate zone in the twilight area, just a thin circle of green, banding the world like a narrow emerald bracelet, backed with the darkness of perpetual night. Not that the Levites had done anything remotely sensible like building anywhere fertile. The rock temple of _Ling Miao _was almost dead centre in the sunward side, carved at the beginning of a crack that ran for almost a hundred miles across a scarred plateau.

"Anyone about?" Mal asked as Hank manoeuvred Serenity in to land.

"Nope," the pilot said, touching the Firefly down above the gorge with nary a bump. "Looks like our luck's holding."

"Let's hope it stays that way." He thumbed the com. "Zoe, Jayne, we're down. Time to get moving."

---

Inside the temple Mal held up his torch. "Come on. Sooner we get this done, the sooner we're home."

Jayne blew on his fingers. "Place gives me an uncomfortableness," he mumbled.

"I'm not that keen on it myself," Zoe agreed. "Hank, are you sure we're alone?" she asked.

"_Neither sight nor sound of anyone else. Just you, me and the zombies_."

"Zombies?" Jayne stared into the darkness, swinging his light fast and making the wall carvings dance.

"He's yanking your chain," Mal soothed.

"Well, he yanks any harder and I ain't gonna be responsible for my actions."

There was a snigger over the earwigs even as they walked towards the back of the huge room.

Zoe stared up at the giant figure carved into the wall, dimly illuminated even by the powerful torches, some kind of altar at its base. "What's he holding?"

"Best not to look too closely." Mal turned left. "This way." He led them through an arch into a smaller vaulted space. "And this was obviously where they held parties," he added dryly.

"This is as creepy as hell," Jayne moaned, eyeing the skulls cemented into the wall all along one side, their empty sockets gazing back at him.

"Grieves me to say it, but I agree with you," Mal said. "Ain't natural."

"They're just skeletal parts, sir," Zoe pointed out. "We all have them."

"Yeah, but I don't want mine to end up grinning at some passerby." He hurried along until he reached the end of the chamber. "Hank, it's a dead end."

"_What do you see?_" the pilot's disembodied voice echoed in their ear-pieces.

"A dozen alcoves. With piles of … bones in them."

There was a pause, then Hank came back. "_Second from the left, under the bones. There's a -_"

"Hang on," Mal interrupted. "_Under_ the bones?"

"_That's what it says. There's a small knob. You gotta push it down and it'll show the next step._"

"What the hell are we doing here?" Mal asked no-one in particular. "We had a job, went well, got paid. Why ain't we enjoying the ill-gotten gains instead of standing here about to handle someone who's been dead for a coupla hundred years?"

"'Cause you don't want a party," Jayne grumbled. "Just 'cause you're paranoid about getting older, don't mean we had to come out and get all zombified just 'cause you don't wanna be –"

"Jayne, move those bones."

"Aw, Mal -"

"Do it."

"They get up and start dancing, I'm gonna be pissed …" He moved forward, putting the torch down carefully before drawing Binky.

"Jayne …"

"You think I'm gonna touch these, you can think again." Using the point of the knife he flicked the first bone off the pile, hearing it clatter to the ground. Again and again, until they lay scattered across the floor. "There ya go."

"Vandal," Mal murmured, but stepped forward. Sure enough, there was a small protuberance set into the rock at the back of the alcove. "Okay …" He pushed at it, feeling it give grittily. There was a grinding noise, and he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

"_Aiya! Hwaile_ …" Zoe murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

At Zoe's voice Mal turned to see a section of the wall had moved to one side, revealing a darkness beyond that had a feeling of age about it. He removed his hand from the knob, but immediately the wall began to close, only reopening as he pressed down again.

"Great," he murmured. "Jayne, see if you can find something to wedge this with."

"That's not a good idea," Zoe put in quickly. "If it slides, comes loose somehow, we'd be trapped."

Mal felt a slow-burning anger in his belly. "But that means one of us has to stay behind."

"_No, it don't_," Hank said over the ear-pieces. "_That's not the way in. In fact, if you went that way, you'd end up at the bottom of a very deep pit. With spikes._"

Jayne shuddered. "Then what -"

"_Just inside the entrance there should be a carving on the wall. You need to tell me what it looks like._"

"Zoe," Mal commanded, holding down the protuberance.

She stepped gingerly inside the tunnel, shining her torch on the wall. Nothing to her left. She turned. "Got it," she said.

"_What's it look like, sweetie?_"

"It's a picture of a man, wearing … actually, very little." She moved the light a little. "Anatomically correct, if somewhat exaggerated."

"_What's he holding?_"

"A trident. Only it isn't. It's got four points, not three." She touched it gingerly. "And it's actually made out of metal, attached to the wall somehow."

"_You need to turn it through ninety degrees. Can you do that?_"

"I'll try." She felt around the metalwork, and realised it was set on a spindle through its centre. Using one finger, she turned it, like adjusting the hour hand on a clock, until it was upside down. There was a click from somewhere deep in the darkness. "Okay," she said, releasing the breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Now what?"

"_That's my girl,_" Hank said approvingly. "_Now what's in his other hand?_"

"A net. It's got five fishes in it."

"_You sure it's five? Not four?_"

"Positive."

There was a pause.

"Hank?" Mal said finally. "If you've gone off to have coffee, I'll be more'n a little mad. And my finger's getting tired."

"_Just double-checking. You wouldn't want me to send you down a blind alley, would you?_"

"Preferably not."

"_Okay, got it. You need to go back into the main hall. Behind the altar you'll see a … well, just get there and I'll explain it then._"

Zoe stepped back into the chamber of skulls, and Mal let go of the knob. The wall groaned closed, and there was suddenly no sign of a tunnel at all.

"Come on," Mal said.

"What about the bones, sir?" Zoe asked.

Jayne backed up. "Well, don't look at me. I ain't picking 'em up."

"I think for the moment we'll forget about tidying up," Mal decided.

---

"How's it going?" Freya asked, stepping onto the bridge.

Hank grinned over his shoulder at her. "Not bad." He chuckled. "You know, this is just like some of the old vids I've been watching. All dark rooms and slimy corridors." He felt a shiver run down his back, and revelled in it. "Great."

"Well, I'm sure Mal would have let you go with them if you'd asked nicely."

"What? And maybe get caught by the undead in said dark room?" He shook his head. "Nope. Not that stupid. Although I do feel the need for a hat, somehow."

"Simon would probably lend you his."

"You think it'd suit me?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, running a hand through his scruffy brown hair.

She smiled. "Down to the ground."

"_Okay, we're behind the altar._" Mal's voice filtered across the ether."_What am I looking for?_"

Hank turned back to the data tab information being displayed on one of the screens. "There should be a number of grooves carved into the wall beneath the figure. See 'em?"

"_Got them._"

"Just tell me how many …"

---

"How do you suppose it's going?" Kaylee asked, leaning in the doorway of the infirmary.

"Fine," Simon said, closing the cupboard door. "The captain knows what he's doing."

"Then why were you checking the supplies again?"

"No reason." He saw her smile at him. "Okay, I was just making sure I had something of everything." He crossed to her. "I just get the feeling things might get a little … difficult."

"Do you s'pose being psychic is catching?" She slid her hands around his waist. "Only you've had these feelings for a while now. And everything's been going so well."

"Maybe that's the problem. Things going well for this crew is somewhat unlikely, and the longer it goes on the more I worry."

She pulled him closer. "I think I got the cure for that, Doctor Tam."

"Shouldn't we be waiting for the others to get back?"

"They ain't invited. 'Sides, Hank'll tell us if there's a problem." She nuzzled at his neck.

"Kaylee …"

---

"Five sets of grooves. Like someone was counting. One, two, three and so on. The last one of 'em looks almost like a hand print," Mal said.

"_Buy that man a cigar. That's what it is. Put your hand in that one and press._"

"You sure about this? I don't want to be caught by anything I shouldn't."

"_You're a big hero, Mal. Just press_."

Mal glanced at Jayne, who shook his head vehemently.

"You're the Cap," he said. "I'm just a hired gun."

"I'll remember you said that next time I apportion out pay." Mal wiped his hand down his pants, hoping no-one would realise he was sweating slightly, even in the coldness of the tomb, and placed it into the grooves. His fingers fit, as if they were carved just for him, and he pushed. It gave slowly.

"Mal …" Jayne murmured, pointing to one of the wall carvings to their right. It had moved backwards, disappearing into inky blackness.

"Shiny." Mal glanced at his first mate. "Let's see if this one stays open." Very gently, almost gingerly, he removed his hand. The opening stayed. "Good. But find something to put into the entrance, just in case."

Jayne nodded and wandered off, his torch beam picking out figures doing unspeakable things to each other.

"You know, Simon was right," Zoe said quietly. "These Levites had serious problems."

"Yeah. I got him to tell me a bit more, about the things he wouldn't say in front of the kids. It appears one of the things they wanted to practise was human sacrifice of those deemed unworthy." He glanced at the altar. "Probably not a bad thing they died out."

"I'd say not."

"Here," Jayne grunted, carrying a large stone that he dropped inside the opening. "It'll hold."

"You sure about that?" Mal asked.

"Hell, I ain't getting caught in there." He glanced into the darkness. "I got a wife and kid to think about."

"Don't we all." Shining his torch into the tunnel, Mal set his shoulders. "Let's get going." He led the way inside.

The tunnel was just about high enough for Jayne to walk without stooping, but narrow enough that he could touch both sides without reaching. Mercifully it appeared to be without any of the disturbing carvings, although here and there were remnants of paintings long since flaked from the walls. He peered at what was left, seeing things he was glad River wasn't with him to see. Then he walked into Zoe. "What the …"

Ahead of them Mal spoke. "Hank, we've come to a crossroads. There's three more tunnels, and it looks like they all branch off as well further on. Which one is it?"

"_I'm working on it_."

"Work a little faster, Hank."

"_Give me a second. This is like trying to read a schematic without the key_."

"Then get it right."

There was silence for another ten seconds, then … "_Okay. Basically you keep right. Wherever it branches, you take the right hand fork._" He paused. "_Best of luck._"

"Thanks."

---

River sat on their bed, Caleb on the covers in front of her. His little arms were waving in the air, his eyes fixed on her. He was too young to smile, but the look on his face showed he knew who his mama was.

"Auntie River, Daddy said you shouldn't have taught me that song," Bethie said from where she was sitting on the floor, her pad and pencils spread out around her. Ethan was next to her, colouring in a drawing River had done for him, and Ben and Hope were playing with Fiddler. "'Bout men on a dead man's chest."

"Did he?"

"Said it wasn't 'ppropriate." She looked up from her work. "Why wasn't it 'ppropriate?"

"Because your Daddy is a boob."

"Auntie River …" Bethie scolded, smiling nevertheless.

River picked up Caleb and held him close, feeling his warmth against her. "He doesn't appreciate pirates."

"Pirates is fun," Bethie said, then saw the look on her aunt's face. "Are you okay?" The little girl stood up, her head on one side.

"Not peeking?"

"No. Auntie Frey doesn't want me to. Practising."

River smiled. "That's good."

"But you're worried."

"No. Not worried. Just …"

"Like an itch you can't scratch?"

River looked into her niece's brown eyes. "You feel it too?"

Bethie nodded. "Like when Fiddler scratches the door 'cause he wants to be let out. Makes me feel …" She couldn't think of the right word, and just wriggled instead. "Like that."

"Exactly like that," River agreed, her brow furrowed. "I just can't seem to pinpoint it …"

---

"There's light ahead," Zoe said, pointing over Mal's shoulder.

"I see it."

"Can't be daylight," Jayne muttered. "Too deep."

"Not sure what else it could be." Mal moved forward, seeing an archway in front of them.

"_Don't step on the sill,_" Hank warned.

"Why, what'll it do?"

"_I'm not sure you want to know_."

Mal rolled his eyes a little, but stepped over the rocky edge into the inner chamber. It _was_ daylight, coming through a shaft dug through the roof and cut from the bedrock itself. "You know, the word 'creepy' has been overused in this context, far as I'm concerned, but I can't rightly think of a better one."

"_Eerie_," came Hank's voice. "_Disturbing. Weird. Spine-chilling _-"

"Hank."

"_Yeah, Mal?_"

"Shut up."

"'_Kay, Mal_."

The chamber was circular, with a domed roof, the light penetrating slightly off-centre. Opposite them, set into a small niche in the wall, was what they'd come for. Mal moved forward cautiously, feeling his hands dampening again. "There y'are," he said quietly. Then he added, "Anything I need to know about pickin' this thing up?"

"_Yeah. Don't get splinters._"

"Zoe, I think you may be out a husband when we get back."

"Don't worry, sir. I'll deal with him."

"_Promises, promises_."

Stretching his fingers a little, Mal reached forward …

Something must have moved. Perhaps the geosynchronous orbit wasn't quite as stable as they'd believed, but suddenly a shaft of sunlight stabbed down through the narrow hole above.

Blinking hard in the unexpected light, they all turned, three jaws dropping like one as they saw a statue that had been sitting against the wall, hidden in the shadows, now glowing as if with internal illumination.

"What the hell …"

"Sir …"

"_Da-shiong bao-jah-shr duh la doo-tze_," Jayne breathed, stepping forward, his hands raising to the figure that glittered with gold, gems sparkling on its surface …

"_Don't let him touch it!_" Hank said loudly, deafening them in the ear-pieces.

Zoe grabbed Jayne, pulling him back, having to use all her strength.

"Jayne," Mal said, his tone the one he'd used back in the war, when he needed to be obeyed, no matter what.

"But it's gold, Mal," the big man insisted, nevertheless ceasing his struggling.

"_It's not,_" Hank said urgently."_It's a trick. A trap. Touch it and the whole floor gives way._"

"Pit?" Mal asked.

"_And more spikes. Big, dirty, bloodstained spikes_," Hank agreed. "_It's not even gold, or jewels. it's just another way to kill you._"

Mal tore his eyes away from the golden figure, and looked up the shaft to the tiny area of blue sky, and the relentless sun beating down. "That's why they built here," he said quietly. "Just for this."

"So it ain't gold?" Jayne asked, needing to be told again that all his dreams hadn't just come true.

_Nightmares,_ he seemed to hear in his mind, and he swallowed.

"No," Mal agreed, going back to the other niche. "And it's not what we came for anyway." He looked at the old piece of wood, and could almost hear the Levites laughing in the background. He leaned forward and got hold of the plaque. It was heavier than he'd imagined, cold and somehow greasy in his hands. "Zoe."

She pulled a thin blanket from the pack on his back, then helped him wrap it up. He was glad when he wasn't actually touching it any more, although the greasiness seemed to remain on his fingers. She slid it into the pack, closing it securely. "Done, sir."

"Good. Time we got the hell out of here." He glanced once more at the statue, at Jayne standing staring, transfixed. "Hank, anything we need to worry about on the way back?" There was no reply. "Hank?" Still nothing. "If you're playing games, this ain't funny."

Zoe tried. "Honey, you there?" Not a word, not even a bad joke. She looked at Mal.

"Great," he muttered. "Just great."


	6. Chapter 6

"You know, Simon found out more about that plaque," Hank said, swivelling backwards and forwards in his seat until Freya began to feel a little seasick.

"Oh?" she said, turning to look out of the window into the Aegis sunshine.

"It's cursed."

"What?" She wasn't really listening to him.

"Cursed. There's some old document that says anyone removing it from its home will …" He stopped swivelling and looked at her. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"I was just wondering why it's gone quiet."

Hank stared, then said, "You don't think they touched that statue, do you? After I told them not to."

"No." She concentrated, pushing through the static River was still putting out. "No, they've okay. Just …"

Hank fiddled with the switches on the com. "Well, there's no reason this end for us not to hear them." He kept trying different combinations.

Freya leaned forward, running her eyes over the console. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, certainly no indication there should be anything wrong. She got to her feet. "I'll go check the array, make sure that's functioning."

He looked round at her. "Can you pick anything else up from them?"

She unfocused, feeling as if she was digging through the rock herself. "Mal's annoyed, but that's about it. They're okay otherwise."

"Can you talk to him?"

"No." She felt annoyed herself. "I … no."

"But they're okay?"

"I think they're on their way back."

"Well, you don't need to climb up on Serenity. Diagnostics show the array's working fine. I think it's just that booster Kaylee put together."

"I still think someone should –"

"Then I'll go." He thumbed the com. "Kaylee, can you come and babysit for a while?"

"S_ure, Hank_," her voice came back. "_Where're you going?_"

"Up top to check the array."

"_We got problems?_" Instantly her tone changed.

"No. Not like that. Probably just a short somewhere."

"_I'll go._"

"Nope. Your shoulder still ain't one hundred percent, and I ain't having your husband shout at me. Something about a doctor mad at me makes me … perturbed. All those potions he's got down in the infirmary …"

They heard Kaylee laugh. "_He wouldn't hurt you._"

"I want to be on the safe side of that. Just come up and keep an eye on things, will you?"

"_On my way_."

Hank turned to Freya. "See? No problem. You go down to the temple, see if you can fix the booster. Anyway, by the time you get there, I expect they'll be coming out." He smiled for her. "Be a nice welcome back, have you waiting for 'em."

"Yeah." She hurried off the bridge, her brow furrowed nevertheless.

---

"Hank?" Mal was getting to the end of his short tether. "Gorram it, where the hell are you?"

"I doubt he's doing this on purpose, sir," Zoe said.

"That doesn't make me feel any better." For a moment he closed his eyes, centring himself, then he looked at the others. "Best get back, then."

"About time," Jayne said, glancing at the golden statue. It looked so real, and the coloured gems were calling out to him. He shivered. "Yeah. 'Bout time."

Mal switched on his torch. Or tried to. "What the …?" He shook it, staring into the business end, but there was nothing. He shook it again, harder, hearing something rattle inside.

"I don't think that's going to work, sir," his first mate said, switching her own on, the beam pale in the sunlight through the vent.

"It might." Mal gave up. "At least we got two left," he said, then wished he hadn't spoken as the one in Zoe's hands died as well.

"You were saying?" Zoe inquired, one eyebrow raised.

"I know these things have a limited life span, but I thought Kaylee charged 'em up 'fore we left."

"She did."

"Well, something ain't right." He shook his torch again but there wasn't even a glimmer. "Okay, Jayne, gimme yours."

"Hey, no, I need this," the big man protested, taking a step back.

"And I'm going first."

"But Mal –"

"You want to be the one to walk into any traps Hank neglected to tell us about?" Mal waved his hand towards the tunnel. "Shiny. Just sing out when you fall into one of those pits."

Jayne glared, but handed his torch over. "You do the same," he grumbled.

Mal settled the pack more securely on his shoulders. "Come on. Better get going 'fore this last one gives out. I really don't wanna be feeling around this place in the dark."

"Cap, you really need to be careful what you say," Jayne pointed out, eyeing the torch beam as it flickered briefly. "Preferably by not saying nothing at all."

"You think I'm tempting fate?"

"Big time."

Mal glared at him again, then turned to head back down the tunnel, keeping to the left this time. Zoe followed close behind, Jayne bringing up the rear, his eyes clamped to the wavering light of the torch.

---

Freya ran down the steep slope towards the entrance to the gorge, ignoring the heat producing sweat that soaked her shirt. Gaining the gorge itself, she was in the welcome cool shade for a few minutes, then back into the bright sunlight as she hurried to the temple, dropping to her knees next to the booster unit. Taking a small roll of tools from her pocket, she began investigating every connection, doing her best to take no notice of the little voice at the back of her mind telling her to go and find Mal.

---

Hank opened the top airlock on the crest of Serenity's neck, inching out. Looking around, he felt a shiver go through him. No matter that he did this on a semi-regular basis, there was something about knowing there was a drop to solid ground all around that made him nervous. No, not nervous, he told himself. Just tense. And tense was good. It meant he concentrated fully on the job in hand. Hooking his line onto one of the safety rings, he made his way towards the array.

---

"_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum_ …" River was singing quietly to herself, not really taking notice of the words as she rocked Caleb. Something was unsettling, making waves in the ocean of normality she tried to live in, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't pin it down. It was like a stone dropped in the middle of a sea, where the ripples would reach land but with no indication of the original starting point.

She looked down at Bethie and Ethan, arguing over one of the coloured crayons. The sooner Jayne was back, the better.

---

"_Cao_!" Jayne's voice filled the narrow tunnel.

"What?" Mal stopped, turning the torch back to the big man.

"Something just … I ran my hand on something."

Mal moved next to Zoe, shining the torch down. "Where?"

Jayne was examining his right palm in the beam. "Gorram it," he muttered, seeing something sticking out of the skin. He took hold of it and pulled, holding it up in the light even as the small wound bled.

"It looks like a piece of one of these paintings," Zoe said, dragging a handkerchief from her pants pocket and flicking it open. She tied it around his hand. "Simon had better take a look soon as we get back," she added. "There's no knowing what kind of bacteria live down here."

"Great," Jayne said. "He'll probably want to cut it off."

"I don't think River'll let him," Zoe assured him.

"First aid all done?" Mal asked, feeling the chill of the stone settling into his bones. "Can we get going again?"

"Yes sir."

He turned back, shaking his head. "Like dealing with an overgrown child …" he muttered to himself.

---

The sun was burning into the back of her neck, and Freya knew she should have brought a hat or something to protect herself, but it was too late now. Her fingers slippery with perspiration, she was having to blink hard to clear it from her eyes too. That made all the sharp shadows in the carved rocks look like they were moving, and when she dropped the small screwdriver into the dirt, she couldn't help but shout in frustration. Scrabbling in the dust, she managed to find the tool, grit adhering to her fingers, but she knew there was nothing wrong with the booster. Standing up, she shielded her eyes and stared into the temple.

---

Hank knew there was nothing wrong with the array, even before he'd climbed up. He knew Serenity like the back of his hand, and like Kaylee he knew when something was amiss, and it wasn't the array. Sunlight beat up off the metal skin of the Firefly, sweat dripping from the end of his nose to splat on her plating, and he never knew if that was the cause, but suddenly his feet slipped out from under him and he went down onto his buttocks, sliding inexorably towards the edge and the drop some sixty-odd feet below. He tried to scramble back, but there was nothing to hold onto, and he knew he was going to fall.

---

"Simon!" River shouted, startling the children and making Fiddler howl.

---

"Rut it," Mal breathed, as the torch in his hand went out.

"Mal, I don't like the sound of that," Jayne almost whined.

"Sir?"

"It's stopped working."

"I can see that." The big man tried to look about him, but there was just darkness. "Or rather, I can't. What the hell do we do now?"

"_All_ the torches? All at the same time?" Zoe asked softly. "That's a bit more of a coincidence than I like."

"How do we get out of here without light?" Jayne demanded.

"Hang on," Mal said suddenly. "Just wait a minute."

---

The line snapped taut, and for a moment that seemed to last for the rest of his life, Hank hung suspended over the sheer drop, not just over Serenity's side, but over the edge of the gorge too. He waited for the telltale sound of the rope giving way, but there was just the ragged sound of his own breathing. Eventually he managed to turn until he was facing the ship, and reached up to grab the safety line, his hands slipping a little with sweat, but holding on for dear life. Nervous wasn't the word now, either, he decided. Gorram terrified seemed to fit a whole lot better. He started to pull himself up, the muscles in his shoulders and arms complaining with every movement.

---

Freya could feel the tension emanating from the people inside, and she could stand it no longer. She walked into the cold, the sweat on her body chilling her immediately. Without a torch she couldn't see too far, and the deep blackness of the shadows seemed to be hiding a multitude of things waiting to pounce, but she didn't stop. She carried on until her knee scraped against a large stone block, and she had to inch her way around it. "Mal?" she whispered.

"_Xin gan_?" Mal walked out of the darkness, his face the only thing reflecting the ambient light, and only as a pale blob at that.

"Thank God," she said softly, hurrying into his arms, feeling her heart start to beat again.

He held her close. "Hey, no need for that." He smiled, even as he knew she couldn't see it. "I heard you calling me."

"I didn't –"

_Yes you did_, she heard in her mind. _Led me home._ "Come on," he said, using words this time and taking her hand. "I really want to be back in daylight."

"You and me both," Jayne mumbled, heading for the entrance in front of them.

Outside in the air, the heat beating down on cold limbs, all four of them took a moment to reorient themselves.

"So was that the problem?" Mal asked, glancing down at the booster unit. "Why we couldn't hear you?"

Freya shrugged. "If it was, I can't figure out how."

"Maybe Kaylee can. And tell me how come all our torches stopped working."

Her eyebrows raised. "All?"

"Yeah." He looked at Jayne. "Bring that with you, _dong mah_?"

The big man nodded and picked up the booster, wincing slightly.

"Did you hurt your hand?" Freya asked, seeing the makeshift bandage for the first time.

"It's nothing." He looked at his palm, where the handkerchief was stained red. "Just a scratch."

"Simon'll see to it, soon as we're back on board." Mal looked back over his shoulder. "Really glad to see the last of this place."

---

"I'm fine," Hank said, as the young doctor fussed around him.

"Why does nobody on board this ship take my word for it?" Simon asked, of no-one in particular. "I spent all that time training, doing my residency, then specialising in trauma surgery, and everyone on this crew thinks they know better than me." He eased him through the top doorway into the cargo bay, Kaylee close behind.

"We just like to keep you on your toes," Hank explained, grinning at River who stood in the entrance to the shuttle, the children clustered around her legs. "Hey, sweetie," he said. "Thanks for sending him to help me."

"My pleasure."

"What's going on?" Mal asked, standing on the ramp and finding himself pushed unceremoniously out of the way as Zoe ran up the stairs to her husband.

"I slipped, but I'm fine," Hank said, nevertheless letting Simon take most of his weight.

"Doing what?"

"Checking the array." He smiled at Zoe as she put her arm around him from the other side. "I'm fine, honey."

"I think he might have strained a few muscles, but he should be okay," Simon confirmed.

"Just glad the line held," Hank added. "Otherwise you'd be scraping me up off the cavern floor."

"That would be … inconvenient," Mal said, relieved his pilot didn't appear to have sustained any permanent damage.

"Hell, for me too!" Hank agreed. He laughed. "It would kinda cramp my style."

"I think he's in shock," Zoe said quietly.

"Probably." Simon adjusted his grip. "Just help me get him into the infirmary so I can check him over."

"Of course." She looked stoically at the man hanging between them. "Although after I'm done talking with him, he might need your services again."

Hank seemed to shrink into himself a little.

Mal glanced at Freya. "Can you take us out of atmo? Something about this place does nothing for my calm."

She smiled. "I think I remember how."

"Then get us on course back to Ariel." He shrugged out of the pack and crossed to the bulkhead, dropping it next to the wall. "I wanna drop this thing off and get the rest of our money."


	7. Chapter 7

"Dust," Kaylee said succinctly.

"What?" Mal stared at her.

"Dust. In the terminals." She blew sharply into the torch then screwed it back together. As she pressed the switch, a beam of light sprang forth, almost blinding him. "Dust."

Mal squinted and held up his hand. "I thought they were sealed."

"They are."

"Kaylee, we didn't open 'em."

"It was still dust."

Mal shook his head. "All I know is they stopped working."

"Well, they're fine now." She glanced in at her husband where he was still checking Hank out, asking him to raise his arms and where it hurt when he did, Zoe standing close by. "Just a coincidence," she added.

"That kinda coincidence might've caused us problems if we hadn't already been on our way back," Mal pointed out.

"But you're fine and everything's shiny."

"Kaylee …"

"Don't you fret, Cap'n. I'll go through them all, and make sure the charger's working okay."

"And the booster? Have to say, it was more than a little disconcerting to suddenly be without communications down in those tunnels, as well as light."

"I'll take a look, see if I can figure out what happened."

"Good." He knew he sounded cranky, so he pulled a smile from somewhere and put his hand on her shoulder. "And thanks."

"No problem, Cap." She grinned at him. "Now I'd better go get cooking, if we intend to be eating any time soon."

"That's an idea." He watched her run up the stairs. "Can I bottle her energy?" he said quietly to Freya as she stood next to him.

"I doubt it. It's uniquely Kaylee."

"Prob'ly." He shook his head slightly. "Still favouring that shoulder, though, I see."

"Mmn?"

"Her shoulder. Where she dislocated it. Rubs it when she thinks no-one's looking."

"Does she?"

Something in her tone made him look at her. She seemed odd, almost ill-at-ease. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine."

"Frey. This is me." He turned enough so he could see directly into her face. "What is it?"

"I didn't pick it up," Freya said softly.

"What?"

"Hank. I was concentrating so hard on you, that I … he could have fallen and I –"

Mal stopped her lips with a finger. "Can't see everything, _ai ren_."

"Then what's the point of being a Reader?" she snapped back.

"I guess there ain't none," he admitted calmly. "Not with what they did to you to make you one."

"Don't patronise me!" She glared at him, but the anger died quickly in her eyes. "Oh, Mal, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to … it isn't your fault I –"

He stroked her back, almost feeling her tattoo pulsing. "It's okay. I think that place had everyone spooked."

Simon came to the doorway. "You can come in now," he said, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

"My pilot fit to fly?" Mal asked, stepping over the sill.

"Fit, yes. Recommended, no." Simon glanced at the man on the medbed. "I'd rather he took it easy for a few days. He wrenched his back somewhat, and sitting in the chair on the bridge for long periods of time probably won't do it much good."

"I can do it," Freya offered, wanting to make up for her ill-temper of earlier. "I think I can manage to fly us to Ariel." She sketched a smile. "Without getting us _too_ lost."

"Hey, wait a minute. I am still here, you know," Hank complained. "And it's my job to get us from place to place."

"Not if I say no," Mal put in. "Simon thinks you need to rest, you rest."

"But Mal –"

"That's an order." He saw the young doctor staring at him. "What?" he asked.

Simon closed his jaw. "I think that's the first time you've let me do my job without arguing."

"First time for everything, doc." Mal chuckled. "Permaybehaps I'm just holding being cantankerous in reserve 'til we get this job done."

"I'll look forward to it," Simon said dryly.

"Hey, can I get my hand looked at now?" Jayne asked, hanging in the doorway.

"No rest for the wicked." Simon waved him inside. "Exactly how did you do this again?"

"Stuck it on something on a wall." He pulled the handkerchief away and held it out to Zoe. "Thanks."

"Jayne, you put that through the wash first," River admonished gently as she waited in the common area, Caleb in her arms.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Okay." He stuffed it into his pocket.

Simon pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Let me see."

Jayne obligingly held out his hand. "Still bleeding a bit," he noted as Simon poured a little water over it to clean the skin.

"Hmmn." Simon touched it gently around the edge. "Yes. I think there might be something still inside the wound." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a probe and a pair of needle-nose forceps.

"Hey, I don't think it needs that," Jayne said, starting to back away.

"And I don't think you want it to get infected, do you?"

"Well –"

"That would mean having to have it drained, cleaned out, stitched up." Simon looked into the other man's blue eyes. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it _is_ your gun hand, isn't it?"

"Hell, I can fire almost as well with my left as –"

"Jayne." River didn't speak loudly, but he reacted as if she'd shouted.

"Okay, okay," he grumbled. "Just … get it over with quick."

"I'll give you a broad spectrum antibiotic as well," Simon went on, poking into the wound and removing another fragment of plaster. "Heaven knows what you could pick up down there."

"Weren't the worst of it." Jayne winced. "Hey, be a bit more careful!"

"And you should be more careful where you put your hands."

"I think it's the curse," Hank put in from the medbed.

"Curse?" Jayne glared at him.

"I was trying to tell Frey earlier." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stifling a groan as his battered muscles protested. Zoe put her hand on his arm, and he smiled up at her.

"What about a curse?" the big man pushed.

"Simon was telling me some of the other stuff he found out."

Jayne turned back to look at the doctor. "You did?"

Simon glanced up. "Do you want me to tell you about my research, or do this right?"

"Can't you do both?"

"Can't you not get hurt just once in a while?"

Jayne bristled and Mal stepped forward, interrupting before more blood than could be spared was shed. "Hank, what the hell are you talking about?"

The pilot leaned forward, glad to be sharing his knowledge. "Cursed. There's some old document that says anyone removing it from its home will be doomed to wander the world until it's returned to its rightful place." He laughed. "Of course, as its rightful home is Earth-that-was, it was probably taking something of a poetic licence. Goes on to say if anyone removes it from the temple, luck will not be theirs until the last sound of the battle trumpet." He grinned again. "I looked it up too."

"It says that?"

"It goes on a bit about ritual disembowelment, that sort of thing, but I thought you'd only want the gist of the matter."

"Gorramit," Jayne complained, twitching slightly.

"Jayne, keep still," Simon ordered.

"But he's talking about -"

"There's no such thing as curses."

"But you -"

"I was just talking, for the sake of something to say, and I really wish I'd kept my mouth shut." He glared at the big man. "Now, are you going to stay still while I put a weave on this or do I have to sedate you?"

Freya shook her head, her lips curving slightly. "I think I'd better see if I can't get us to Ariel quicker," she said, putting her hand on Mal's arm. "Or there might be murder done."

---

Mal hadn't had the chance to take a good look at the plaque as he'd wrapped it in the blanket, but his curiosity had finally got the better of him, and as Serenity settled down for the night, he put off heading for his bunk to take a look.

The catch clicked on the wall section in the cargo bay, and he lifted it easily away. He bent down to reach inside, then recoiled back as a wave of cold air rolled out, misting in the bay atmo. Okay, that was odd. Shouldn't be like that.

He shook his head. Probably just his imagination, he told himself. The mist had already dissipated, as if it had never been. _Get a grip, Mal_, his inner captain said. _Nothing to be concerned about here. Just Hank going on about curses_. He almost smiled. That man needed his mouth duct-taped and thrown in the hold occasionally.

Leaning into the hole, he pulled out the backpack, sliding the fabric-wrapped bundle from inside. It still seemed a lot heavier than it had a right to be, and as he undid the blanket, he could see it wasn't just wood. At least, not wood anymore. There was a stone-like quality to it, and he realised he was looking at a piece of petrified wood, and quite possibly thousands of years old, if not millions. He shuddered slightly. Probably the oldest thing he'd ever handled.

Holding it by the edge, he ran his hand across the carving, then rubbed his fingertips into his palm. It felt almost wet, greasy, like fresh blood. _Okay, that's enough_, he told himself. Hank was definitely due an appointment with the hold. He turned the plaque, trying to see what the carving actually was, as it was worn here and there, touched by a multitude of hands, maybe. Trying to catch the light in just the right way, he …

Ah. Right. Maybe the feeling of spilled blood wasn't so far wrong after all.

He shook his head. Had Levi Bailey found this somewhere, and decided it was appropriate to his religion? Or maybe one of his followers had contributed it, later on down the line. Whatever the process, it certainly fit in with the rest of _Ling Miao._

Four figures, one at each corner of the plaque. It wasn't clear if they were male or female, or even if they were clothed, but they were each turning some kind of wheel. The fifth figure, in the middle, was attached by ropes. That was most definitely male, rendered much more realistically. So much so Mal could almost hear the snapping of tendons, ligaments stretched beyond breaking point, and the endless, eternal scream emanating from the open mouth.

For a long moment he wondered what Dr Bell could possibly find interesting in this nightmare, then he remembered the look of avaricious acquisition in the old man's eyes. Maybe it wasn't what it was – maybe it was just the owning. He surely hoped so.

_Mal_.

He almost dropped the plaque, gripping it in his fingers at the last moment. _Frey?_ He looked up towards the bunks.

_Leave that now. Come to bed._

He glanced down at the ancient wood again, wondering what possessed someone to carve it. _It's pretty … disgusting._

_I know._

Mal swallowed, somewhat thickly, as he wrapped it back up, hiding the horror of someone's imagination. Least, he had to believe it was imagination, and not done from life. Pushing it quickly back into the bag, he dropped it inside the smuggler's hold, sealing it tight. He wiped his hands down his pants and straightened up. _I think I need a shower_, he thought firmly. _That's made me feel all kinds of dirty._

_I've got our towels ready._

_**Our**__ towels?_ He was already climbing the stairs, two at a time.

_I thought you might like company._

He smiled even as he stepped through the top door. _Any particular reason?_

_I need to apologise. For earlier._

_Not needed, ai ren._ He rounded the corner of the corridor, finding her standing waiting for him.

"Yes it is." She looked at him, her face serious. "I shouldn't take things out on you."

"Hey, darlin' that's what I'm here for." He smiled wider. "You can take out whatever you like on me. Whenever you like."

"I don't like. Taking it out on you, I mean." She stepped closer to him. "It makes me feel bad."

"Can't be having that," he said softly, putting his hand on her waist. "The kids asleep?"

"Out like lights."

"The rest of the crew?"

She concentrated, two little lines appearing between her eyebrows. "Zoe's trying to make Hank comfortable but he keeps making inappropriate suggestions. Caleb's wakeful so Jayne's reading him a bedtime story. Simon and Kaylee …" She wrinkled her nose. "That's disgusting."

Mal suppressed a chuckle. "They're having sex?"

"If you can call that kind of … oh, yuck."

Now Mal did laugh. "You sound like your son." He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. "Prude."

"I am not a prude!"

"No?" He pulled her in closer, the towels in her arms stopping him from feeling her down the length of his body.

"No." She smiled slowly. "Well, maybe a little."

"Makes me love you all the more, Frey." His grin faltered as the figures from the plaque slid into his mind again.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I'll make you forget."

---

"Boss!"

"What?"

"I just realised. We don't have to kill ourselves getting to Ariel."

"Course we rutting do!"

"No, there's a better way."

"Look, I've got plans for that Reynolds, and most of 'em entail having him strung up on a hook in front of me and me with a sharp knife cutting that arrogant smile off his face …"

"I know. And you still can. But there's another option for making sure that happens. One that don't leave us at the mercy of the Feds."

"What the _diyu _are you talking about?"

"Just listen a minute …"


	8. Chapter 8

"Main water pump's gone down," Kaylee said succinctly as everyone gathered for breakfast.

"That why I ain't getting anything here?" Jayne asked at the sink, turning the taps back and forth.

"Yep." Kaylee sat down.

"Then how come I could make coffee?" Zoe asked, glancing down into her mug.

"You probably had what was left in the pipes, but that'll be it 'til I can get up and take a look."

"Is it gonna cause problems?" Mal asked, settling Jesse into the high chair.

"No, not really. The auxiliary pumps're still going, so the toilets'll flush, and infirmary's got water, but that's about it."

"How did you find out?"

Kaylee giggled, hastily suppressed at the glare from her husband. "Simon was trying to take a shower this morning, and it ran out halfway through him rinsing his hair. You don't wanna know where I had to get the water from so he could finish."

"She didn't tell me I could have used the infirmary sink," Simon explained wearily.

"Well, didn't want you trailing suds all through the corridors, now did I?"

Mal tried to hide the smile, not all that successfully. He looked at his mechanic. "Well, you got around seven hours 'til we land. You gonna be able to fix it by then?"

"Won't know 'til I take a look. Might be something real simple, or it might mean a whole new pump."

Mal winced. "And I'm guessing that's gonna be expensive."

"And it might just be a valve." She smiled at him. "No looking on the dark side 'til we have to, okay?"

"Do you have to be that cheerful so early in the morning?" he complained.

"Well, I could be an old grump like you, but where would that get us?"

"That's _Captain_ Grump to you." He raised his eyebrow at her.

"I love my captain."

"That don't always work."

"Course it does." She grinned widely.

---

As breakfast broke up, Ethan looked up. "Mama, can I come sit with you while you fly?"

"I won't be doing much," Freya said, smiling at her son. "Just making sure we don't hit anything."

"You can teach me stuff." He puffed out his chest. "So I can fly one day."

"Hey, I wanted to learn how!" Bethie complained, her fists on her little hips. "That ain't fair!"

"You can come too," Freya said, her tone conciliatory. "You can sit in the co-pilot's chair and Ethan can sit on my lap."

"Why does he always have to be around?" Bethie whined. "He always gets to do stuff."

Mal put his second mug of coffee down. "So do you, short stub."

"I know, but he's always there." She glared at Ethan.

"Honey, stop that," Simon said quickly. "Of course he's around. You both live on a ship."

"Why don't you come help me today?" Kaylee suggested. "I have to climb up into Serenity's hull. You can –"

"Don't want to." Bethie crossed her arms, slumping back into her chair.

"Bethany." Simon was much sharper this time, and using his daughter's full name meant he was verging on annoyed.

"It's okay, Simon," Kaylee said, trying to hide the fact that she was disappointed. "I'm sure the bridge holds a lot more interest than some dusty old pump." She got up, taking their plates to the sink. "Have to leave the washing up for a while, though," she said.

"Could always try putting 'em in the airlock and opening the door," Jayne suggested.

"What? Why?"

"Feller I worked for once did that. He said you could just scrape the bits off, kinda like being freeze-dried."

She stared at him, her mouth open. "Jayne, that's disgusting!"

"And it probably doesn't kill everything," Simon added. "I'm surprised you weren't all sick."

"That's why I left," Jayne explained, easing Caleb over to his left arm. "I spent the whole three months on that boat hanging over the head. I ain't never felt so empty at either end." He flexed his right hand, wincing a little.

"Is that bothering you?" Simon asked, gladly switching into doctor mode and not noticing Bethie climbing down from her chair.

"It kinda aches."

"Let me see."

Jayne reached over the table just as Bethie rounded the end, heading for where Ethan was sitting. "It's sorta hot, too."

Simon peeled the dressing back and studied the skin. "It's red, and I don't like the look of those lines. You'd better come with me and I'll clean it again. Although those antibiotics should have –"

There was a cry, and suddenly Ethan was on the floor.

"Ethan?" Freya was immediately down on her knees next to her son, Mal hovering close behind. "It's okay, Ethan, I'm here."

"Mama?" He was holding his face, his small body shaking.

"Let me see."

"Bethie pushed me," he sobbed. "Hit my nose. Mama, it hurts."

"I know. Let me see, Ethan. Let Mama see." She gently pulled his hands away, her heart missing a beat as she saw blood mixing with his tears. "It's okay, Ethan. It's okay." She gathered him into her arms. "Simon?"

"Bring him downstairs." He hurried ahead of them to get the infirmary ready.

Freya stood up, Ethan held close. "See?" she said gently. "Uncle Simon'll fix this right up."

"Auntie Frey …." Bethie tried to speak, but Freya strode out, not even looking at her.

"Not right now, Bethie," Mal said, following.

---

"It's not broken," Simon announced, finishing his careful cleaning. "It's just a nosebleed, although he may end up with a black eye."

Freya released a long-held breath, and brushed Ethan's bangs from his forehead. "See?" She smiled for him. "All okay."

"'Es, Mama." He was still crying, but that was more from the shock than anything. "Do I get a lollipop?"

Simon laughed, holding one out. "I had it ready," he said.

Ethan took it and ripped the cover off, putting it into his cheek and sucking loudly.

"What do you say?" Freya prompted.

"Hang yu," he said indistinctly around it.

"That's my good boy."

"Auntie Frey, it was my fault," Bethie said from the doorway. "I was angry and I … I know I shouldn't have pushed …" She stopped, her breath catching at the look on Freya's face.

"Honey, all kids fight," Mal pointed out, his voice as gentle as he could make it.

"I know." Freya turned back to her son, but not before glaring at Bethie, who burst into tears and ran away towards her room.

"No reason to be like that," Kaylee said hotly, chasing after her daughter.

"Every damn reason," Freya breathed, gathering Ethan to her and walking out in the other direction.

Simon watched her go. "We're all a bit jumpy, Mal," he commented. "That place … Bethie said it was making her feel like someone had put itching powder under her skin."

"I conjure we all felt that way."

"But she's a Reader. It makes it worse."

"You think I don't know that?" Mal's temper snapped. "That's no gorram excuse for what she did!"

"She still feels it, Mal." Simon was being reasonable, not wanting to go head to head with his captain over this, even though it was his daughter. "She told me. I think you ought to make allowances." Tossing the used swabs into the bin, he added, "And you yourself told Freya that kids fight."

"And you've gotta realise how Frey feels. Nearly losing Ethan like that, to Minuet's … He's her son, Simon. _Our_ son."

"I know." He sighed. "I'll speak to Bethie."

"I'd appreciate it. I've a notion your wife is doing that right now, but sometimes daughters listen to their fathers more."

Simon couldn't stop the snort of laughter. "You think?"

"Hell, I'm hoping so."

---

Mal found his wife and child on the bridge. Ethan was on her lap, his face pressed into her, one little hand wrapped in the fabric of her shirt. He was fast asleep.

"He okay?" Mal slipped into the other seat.

"I think so." She didn't raise her eyes from the boy. "Being up here, he finds it restful."

"Me too. He really must be my son." He waited for her to smile, to make a joke, or even hit him, but she didn't move. He sighed. "It could've been worse, Frey."

Her arms tightened a little. "I know." Finally she looked at him. "Where's Jesse?"

"River's got her in with her and Jayne. It's okay. I wouldn't leave our daughter to fend for herself." He watched Freya nurse Ethan for a while. "Are you going to speak to Bethie?"

"No."

He went on as if she hadn't spoken. "Only I think you should. This job … it's got her all jinxed, and maybe you should let her tell you why she pushed Ethan 'fore you decide she needs to go out the airlock."

"I wouldn't do that."

"She thinks you would."

Her eyes pierced to his soul. "Are you turning psychic now?"

"I've been told I could've been." He leaned forward. "Frey, you gotta let Bethie apologise. She knows she was wrong. You know she knows. And she knows you know she knows, and if you don't let her say sorry she's gonna think you don't trust her no more."

"She pushed Ethan off his chair."

"I know. And I'm fair sure over the years there's gonna be more of that kinda thing, maybe worse. We're on a small boat, Frey. There are times I wanted to push Jayne off his chair, only I didn't. Mainly 'cause he's bigger'n me, and River'd gut me, but we all get on each other's nerves some time or another. And that damn planet's only made it worse."

"This _ke pa_ job," Freya agreed. "Nothing but trouble since we took it."

"You can say that again. It's almost got me wishing I'd agreed Jayne could organise a birthday party for me instead."

Finally the corner of her mouth lifted. "Only almost?"

"Only _ever_ almost." He held out his arms. "Come on. Give him to me."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You're gonna go and talk to Bethie, Frey. Oh, we might argue about it, throw things, threaten each other with guns or maybe knives, but you know damn well you're gonna do it. Might as well make it easy on yourself."

"No guns," Ethan said sleepily, yawning hugely.

"Hey, big feller," Mal said, getting out of his chair quickly and going down onto his heels next to them. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore." Ethan touched his nose tenderly.

"I know, but that'll go off. Hell, I got my nose broke more'n once, and it ain't done my good looks no harm." He glanced up into Freya's face. "What?"

"Nothing."

Ethan untangled his hand from her shirt. "Gotta go talk to Bethie," he said, sounding somewhat stuffed up.

"Really?" Freya looked down into her son's face. "You think I should?"

"'Es." He nodded. "Daddy can look after me." He held out his arms and Mal lifted him from his mother's lap.

"I guess that's told me," Freya said, standing up.

Mal followed, shaking his head. "See, that's what I mean about things being all ass-backwards at the moment. I tell you to go talk to Bethie, you say no. Ethan just brings it up in conversation, and you're off running down there."

"I'm not running anywhere."

"Stop prevaricating and go."

"Long words don't make me want to –"

"Go."

She held up her hands in surrender. "All right, I'm going. Just don't crash us into any solid moon, okay."

"I think I can manage that. And I've got Ethan to help me. Right, big feller?"

The little boy nodded hard. "Right."

---

Kaylee had managed to calm her daughter down, and they were sitting together on Bethie's bed when Freya appeared in the doorway.

"Bethie. Can I speak to you for a moment?"

The little girl looked at Kaylee, who nodded slightly. "'kay," she said, sniffing a little.

"Well, I'd better go start looking at that pump," Kaylee said, getting to her feet. "Otherwise the Cap's gonna be mad at me." She smiled encouragingly at Bethie. "If you wanna come find me later …"

"Yes, Momma."

Kaylee nodded, then glanced at Freya, a wealth of information in that single look, from pleading not to be too hard on her daughter, to understanding why she might be. Then she walked out, whistling tunelessly to calm her nerves.

"Can I sit down?" Freya asked.

"'Es." Bethie shuffled up a little, taking the opportunity to grab hold of the large green rabbit Mal had won for her a long time ago and holding onto it tightly.

"Thank you." Sitting down, Freya studied the little girl. "So what happened, Bethie?"

"Not sure."

"Ethan's smaller than you. And a lot younger."

"I know."

"Then why did you push him?"

"Don't know." She was twisting the rabbit's ear, round and round.

"You must have some idea."

"It just … seemed …" She stopped, looking up into Freya's face, afraid of what she might see.

"It seemed the right thing to do?"

Bethie nodded. "'Es."

"You know it wasn't."

"'Es." She swallowed. "Auntie Frey, I'm sorry. I don't know what made me do that. I don't wanna hurt Ethan, nor anyone else. I just –" She clamped her lips tightly shut, knowing she was about to make an excuse.

"Mal said it was that moon." Freya leaned back, her shoulders on the bulkhead.

"It's not nice," Bethie agreed.

"That's true."

"And I don't like that thing in the bay."

"Neither do I."

"Blood," Bethie said quietly. "So much blood."

Freya nodded slowly. "I can feel it too." She studied the little girl. "A few more hours and it'll be gone, though. And you're gonna have to promise me you won't do that again."

"I promise, Auntie Frey."

Freya could see the honest intentions almost shining out of her, and she relaxed a little. "Come here."

Bethie scrambled along the bed and cuddled into Freya's embrace, closing her eyes. "Sorry, Auntie Frey."

"Accepted, Bethie. You need to apologise to Ethan too, but that can wait a while."

"'Kay, Auntie Frey."

Simon smiled slightly from his position just around the corner, having listened surreptitiously to the entire conversation. Thank God things were getting back to normal.

"Hey, doc," Jayne grumbled from the infirmary doorway. "You gonna come look at this 'fore it falls off?"

---

"Okay, folks, buckle up. Ariel is coming up to meet us." Freya switched the com off.

"I hope that wasn't a suggestion that we're about to crash," Mal said from behind her.

"No more than usual." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "How's Ethan?"

Mal had spent the last couple of hours with his son, just having some father time together. "He's okay. I think Simon's right, though. He's got the beginnings of a royal black eye."

"Oh." Freya bit her lip, murmuring something under her breath.

"Honey, you know I can't understand your cursing when you mumble."

"Let's just get this job over with as quickly as possible, _dong mah_?"

"Wasn't planning on dawdling." He watched her make a couple of tiny corrections as the Firefly dropped through the atmo towards the docks. "It still bad?"

"Yes."

"Damn Hank for coming up with -"

"It isn't him, Mal. Nothing about this job has felt right, even before he started on about curses."

"But I doubt he's helped." The late afternoon sunlight caught one of the tall skyscrapers, flaring through the bridge windows, and he closed his eyes briefly.

"No. Maybe not. And you're not allowed to duct-tape him." She managed to scrape up a smile for him just as she adjusted the VTOL engines, pulling back on the power at the last minute to settle gently into their appointed docking space.

"Nicely done." He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. "And stop reading my mind, witch."

---

Mal adjusted the gunbelt around his hips, tugging his coat into place. This time they were taking the shuttle to make the delivery, and he was going armed. "Zoe, see if you can get us some passengers. I doubt it, but there might be someone wanting to get off this fancy rock who doesn't want to use a liner. That is, if Kaylee manages to get that pump fixed. Can't exactly be taking people's cash if things ain't working."

"No, sir." She smiled slightly. "What'll I put as our destination?"

"Persephone. Close enough people might want to go there, far enough for me to feel more comfortable."

"Yes, sir."

Mal watched Freya step into the shuttle above him. "And keep an eye out. I know it ain't likely, but I'm not stupid enough to ignore it when she feels agitated."

Simon stepped out of the common area doorway. "I still don't see why I need to come," he said, joining them.

"Dr Bell saw you before," Mal said, dropping a hand onto the young man's shoulder. "I don't wanna spook him by taking someone else. Besides, I'd've thought you'd jump at the chance to see the great man in his home environment. Isn't it supposed to be able to tell you something about him?"

Simon glanced around the cargo bay, at the worn ship that made up Mal's home. "I believe it is," he agreed.

Jayne stepped out of _his_ home above them and crossed towards the other shuttle. "We going?" he asked, grumpier than usual.

"And you've got a patient to be looking after," Mal pointed out, watching the ex-mercenary disappear.

"I'm more than a little concerned about him," Simon admitted. "That wound should have started to heal, but I just can't seem to clear the infection."

"Do you need anything to help? Something we could get whilst we're here?"

"No, not really. I've got a culture growing at the moment, and when we get back I might have a better idea what it is we're dealing with."

"Is he fit to work?"

"Well, his right hand is certainly uncomfortable, but as he said, he can shoot almost as well with his left." Simon looked sharply into Mal's face. "Why, do you think there's going to be violence?"

"I hope not. But you never can tell. Randolph Bell might turn out to be a homicidal maniac with a taste for young doctorial flesh."

"Oh, ha, ha." Simon shook his head and turned away, heading up the stairs to the shuttle. "Why you never made it as a stand up comedian on the Cortex, I'll never know."

"I like a private audience."

Simon leaned on the railing. "All I can say is don't give up your day job, captain." He vanished into the shuttle's interior.

"Violence, sir?" Zoe dropped her voice.

"Like I said, I hope not. But the sooner I get this thing off my ship, the better." Mal picked up the backpack and strode towards the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

"Where're you gonna park?" Mal asked, leaning on the back of the pilot's seat.

Freya nodded down. "Looks like a flat area to the south of the house. I'll put us down there."

"Shiny."

"Just be a minute."

Dr Randolph Bell's beach house was a two-storey affair with enough tinted glass to keep a team of window cleaners employed more or less permanently. The roof was covered in the obligatory solar panels, and a long veranda ran around the entire ground floor. Just beyond the rear of the property was a set of steps going down to the sandy shore, where there appeared to be a couple of boats pulled out of the water, covered in tarpaulins. Parked in the drive was a top-of-the-range groundcar, bright red and gleaming.

"Nice place," Mal commented. "Remote, too."

"Being a professor must pay okay," Freya replied.

"And he's never been married, at least according to Simon's research."

She flashed him a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that my pockets have never been so empty since we got wed," he joked.

"So you'd rather be rich but single."

"I'd rather not have a penny to my name long as you're in my bed." He squeezed her shoulder.

"That's better." She smiled and adjusted the shuttle's attitude thrusters just a little to allow the small craft to settle into the dirt with barely a bump. She'd manoeuvred enough so that they were facing the main house, and switching off the engines she sat for a moment, staring out.

"You okay?" Mal asked.

"The shuttle isn't exactly quiet. Even if he wasn't expecting us, you'd think he'd be looking to see who we are."

"Maybe he's not home."

"With the yen he had for that piece of wood?" Freya shook her head. "I would've thought he'd be chomping at the bit."

"Me too." Mal's hand strayed to his gun butt. "Still, won't know 'til we go see."

---

Zoe typed in PERSEPHONE on the destination board, setting departure time in three hours. That should be enough for Mal and the others to deliver the goods and get paid. She wasn't going to admit it, but she was more than a little spooked herself. Mal had told her about the carving, what it represented, and she was glad it wasn't on board any longer. And it looked like things were improving. Kaylee had almost finished repairs on the water pump with some parts she'd put away for just an occasion, and now -

"Persephone, Ma'am? Is that where you're going?"

She turned to face a young man, looking no older than late teens, possibly early twenties at a push. "That's right."

"Is it a good place?" He seemed very eager.

"As good as any." Zoe looked him up and down. He was fairly well dressed, in a suit that looked of good cut, even if it was possibly older than him. She noted the slightly worn cuffs, and the shoes that could do with a polish. Still, his shirt was clean, buttoned up all the way to his neck. "You looking for passage?"

"Me and my girl." He grinned, making her revise her top estimate as to his age. He wasn't older than twenty. "We … we need to get away."

"You running from someone?"

He glanced about, as if he was making sure no-one was listening. "Her father. He doesn't like me. Wants her to marry some fancy _hwoon dahn_ with more money than taste."

Zoe's lip twitched slightly. "And she wants to marry you?"

"Definitely." He held out his hand. "My name's Cody. Cody Dean."

"Zoe Mills. I'm first mate on board Serenity."

They shook and Cody glanced up at the old Firefly. "She looks like a good ship."

"That she is." Zoe put her hands on her hips. "But we're not taking passengers that might cause us problems with the Alliance."

"Alliance?"

"If your girl's father calls the authorities, and they figure out which boat -"

"He wouldn't," Cody assured her quickly. "He's had a few run-ins with them himself, truth be told. He has no love for them."

Zoe studied him closer. "Can you pay? We're not a charity either."

"Oh, I can pay. I've been saving up." He patted his inner jacket pocket proudly, then realised what he was doing, and swallowed. "Not that I … I don't mean … I've not got it -"

She took pity on him. "Just don't go around doing that anywhere else, or you'll find yourself in a dark alley with no money and likely bleeding into the gutter."

"I won't." He smiled gratefully, then it hitched a little. "Um … how much is it to Persephone?"

Zoe named a figure, and she could see his mind working, and maybe coming up a little shy. "But that can be negotiated," she added.

"I can do chores. Clean. Fix stuff," Cody offered, all eagerness again.

"How old are you, Cody?"

He drew himself up. "Twenty-three."

"Want to try that again?"

His shoulders slumped. "Okay, I'm nineteen. But Sadie's twenty. We're all legal, Miss Mills."

"Mrs." She continued to study him, and he seemed to lose heart.

His head dropped. "That's okay," he said, dejection in every line. "We can find another way off -"

"Be back here before nineteen hundred," she interrupted. "The both of you, with any bags you're taking."

Hope lit his eyes. "You serious?"

"If you're not, we won't wait."

"We'll be here!" He grinned, turning to run then spinning back. "Thanks!"

She watched him as he sprinted away around the side of a Tunstall, and couldn't help smiling. She didn't remember ever being that enthusiastic, even aged nineteen. At that point she was already a veteran soldier of three years standing, and that kind of ebullience tended to get drilled out pretty quickly. Hank, on the other hand -

"Who was that?"

She looked up to see the man himself standing on the ramp, Kaylee at his side. "Passengers."

The young mechanic's face lit up. "More'n one?" she asked.

"A young couple. Running away from her father, no less."

Kaylee almost bounced. "Ooh, stories! I love folks with stories. And that's so romantic."

Zoe smiled. No, it was Kaylee who was filled with that enthusiasm, more than anyone on board. Nothing kept her down for long. "I suppose it is." She walked towards them, fixing her gaze on Hank. "And you should be in bed."

"I got lonely," he explained. "And bored. Besides, Simon said I could take some gentle exercise." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Fancy taking some with me?"

"And throw your back even further out. I don't think so."

"Spoilsport."

"If'n my back hurts from crawling under my girl all day, I find hanging from the support beams helps," Kaylee offered. "Freya told me 'bout it. Works too."

"I don't think Freya uses it for that, Kaylee," Zoe said, her dark eyes twinkling a little.

"Hey, neither do I. Not all the time." Kaylee sparkled. "It's amazing the reaction I get from my husband when I get the chair out …"

---

Mal, Freya and Simon walked towards the front door, while Jayne took a detour around the perimeter.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asked, aware the other two were watching everything.

"No. Not so's you'd notice."

"Well, I _have_ noticed. Are we expecting trouble?"

Mal smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'm not intending to get shot today."

"That's a relief," Simon responded dryly. "I'll put it in my diary."

Mal laughed. "Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."

Simon gave him a sideways look, then they were at the wooden steps leading up to the veranda.

"Anything?" Mal asked, and for a moment Simon wondered who he was speaking to.

"Nope," Jayne said, materialising out of the scrubby bushes next to them. "Coupla windows open a bit upstairs, but no other signs of life."

"Then I guess we knock." Mal climbed the steps and rapped loudly on the frame - _shave and a haircut_. He followed it with _two bits _and they waited, but there was no movement, no voice asking them to hold their horses.

"There's no cameras," Freya said, having been studying the front of the glass house. "No sign of any security at all."

"Maybe he doesn't like to keep a record of visitors." Mal knocked again. "Could be maybe he has done this kinda business before."

"I'll just go …" Freya vanished around the corner, her feet silent on the decking.

"Perhaps he's gone for a walk," Simon suggested. "It's a nice evening." He looked towards the sun, still an hour or two from setting, but throwing long shadows across the ground. He felt a cold shiver he couldn't explain climb his spine.

"Could be," Mal agreed. "But like Frey said, he should've heard the shuttle, been high-tailing it back. And there's no sign." His eyes scanned the horizon, and only the swoop of seagulls proved there was any life beyond their little group. "I for one –" He stopped as Freya's voice rang out.

"Mal!"

He was running before the echoes died away.

Freya was leaning against one of the grey walls, her hands cupped around her eyes so she could see through the tinting.

"What?"

"Looks like a body," she said, her breath steaming the glass. "On the floor."

"_Cao_." He stood next to her, shading his eyes as she was doing. Sure enough, there was what appeared to be a figure lying at the bottom of the open-plan staircase. "Gorramit."

"Bell?"

"Can't tell."

"Mal?" Simon was trying to see in as well. "If someone's hurt …"

"Yeah." He turned to look at the ex-mercenary. "Jayne, try the back."

"And it it's locked?" the big man wanted to know.

"Break in. Like Simon says, he might be hurt."

Jayne nodded and loped off around the veranda.

Mal and the others headed back to the front door, and he took hold of the handle. "Well, here goes nothing." His eyebrow raised as it turned in his grip. "Okay." Glancing at Simon he added, "Stay outside until we find out what's going on," giving the young man no time to answer as he pushed the door open. It took only a moment for the odour to register, and he recoiled slightly. "Now that's a perfume I hoped never to smell again."

Simon sniffed. "Decomposition."

"Yeah. Definitely stay back." He stepped into the house, gun drawn, Freya at his back.

The front door led straight into an oversized room, overlooking the ocean, all dull wood and burnished metal. There were free-standing shelves delineating areas, and tables and chairs full of more books. Not a single surface was free of clutter. And, of course, there was the body.

"Frey, check upstairs," Mal said softly, and she nodded, hurrying up the steps, her gun leading the way.

A slight noise from the rear had Mal lift his own firearm, but he released the slight pressure on the trigger as Jayne appeared.

"I think something died in here," the big man said, stepping through from one of the other rooms. At Mal's look he went on, "Back door was open. Didn't have to break nothing."

"Dr Bell." Simon stepped past Mal and went down onto his knees next to the body lying face up, eyes staring milkily at the ceiling.

"What part of 'stay outside' didn't you get, doctor?" Mal said, exasperation in his tone.

"That's the point. I _am_ a doctor."

"And there might be a killer still in here. Anyway, I doubt you can do much for him now. Not 'less you can resurrect the dead."

Simon sat back on his heels. "No. I'm afraid you're right. But I doubt the killer, if there is one, is still around. The body's been here a while." He put his hands under Bell's shoulders, lifting him a little. "He's not been moved, either."

Mal stared at him, then back at the body. "How can you tell?"

"Lividity is settled, with no sign of post …" He stopped. "The blood has pooled all down his back and legs, where they're resting on the floor," he explained.

Mal didn't take offence at the captain dummy talk, not this time. "Any idea how long he's been dead?"

"Well, pathology was never my discipline, but …" Simon thought for a moment, his long, lean surgeon's fingers touching the dead flesh here and there. "The air conditioning's on," he began slowly, "which would delay start of decomposition somewhat, but from the lack of rigor, tissue colour and texture, and of course the smell … I'd say at least two days."

"So he was dead before we picked up the plaque."

"Oh, yes. Probably shortly after we left Ariel. I imagine he came straight here after seeing us."

Mal sighed in relief. "Good." He realised what he sounded like. "Not that it's good he's dead, of course, but –"

"What, you were thinking it was Hank's curse?"

"You were the one brought it up first, as I recall," Mal pointed out. "But … yeah."

"And there I was thinking you were concerned because we wouldn't get paid."

"That too, doctor." He slid his gun back into its holster. "So … an accident?"

"There's a ruck in the carpet," Freya said from the top of the stairs, crouching down. "And blood on the middle step."

"I'd say he fell, and broke his neck," Simon added. "Whether someone pushed him, that I can't say."

"Well, they don't appear to have taken anything," Mal said.

"How can you tell?" Simon looked around the room, every surface piled high. "There could have been the Alliance ceremonial sceptre here for all we know."

"It ain't robbery," Jayne said flatly.

"And you know that … how?"

"'Cause that's worth more'n Serenity," the big man pointed out, nodding towards a high end, ultra expensive and very new looking Cortex screen. "Black market'd get you at least six thousand, probably more."

"Jayne's right," Freya said, descending the stairs and avoiding the bloodstain. "Besides, he's wearing a watch that'd keep us flying for a year. No self-respecting thief's gonna leave that behind."

Simon looked down at the timepiece on Bell's left hand. She was right. A gold Osiran.

"So it was an accident. Unlucky," Mal observed.

"Not for us." Jayne had been opening drawers in a desk by the window, and now held up an envelope. "Even got our name on it."

"We can't take that," Simon insisted.

"We did the job. Got a little hurt doing it, too," Jayne added, holding up his gun hand. "I figure we leave that hunk of wood and take our pay."

Simon turned to Mal. "We have to inform the authorities. Dr Bell is … _was_ a well-known figure."

"Then someone's gonna miss him sooner or later," Mal said firmly. "Jayne's right. We did what we were paid for. The rest of it's someone else's problem."

"No." Except it wasn't Simon this time. It was Freya. "It's still ours."

Mal looked at her. "I thought you wanted this off the ship." He held up the backpack.

"I do. But … not like this." She looked at him. "We have to take it back."

"What?" He was about to give her any number of reasons why that was a bad idea, but Jayne got there first.

"You're crazier than moonbrain!" he blurted out. "There ain't no way I'm going back to that forsaken moon. We nearly all got dead last time … I ain't gonna risk it again!"

"I don't know if it's cursed or not. I don't usually believe in them, but … so many things have been going wrong, I …" She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. "I just know we have to do this."

Mal put his hand on her arm. "Frey, honey … it's just a lump of wood."

"That screams in the night." She shuddered. "It'll kill us all if we don't take it back to Aegis."

"Cap, talk some sense into your wife," Jayne boomed.

Mal ignored him. "You sure about this? You sure if we leave it behind, leave it here, you won't feel better?"

She shook her head. "It'll only get worse."

He gazed into her eyes. _You honestly sure?_

_Positive_.

He exhaled through his nostrils. "It's but a day. We're pretty good on fuel, could burn it a little, make it more like eighteen hours, maybe even less."

"Mal, you can't be serious …" Jayne leaned on the glass, feeling it cool beneath his head.

"You don't have to come," Mal pointed out.

"Where the hell else'm I gonna go?" the big man sighed, pushing himself straight.

"Then let's get back, before someone decides to come looking for the good doctor and finds us here. I'd hate to have to be explaining things to the Feds right now."

"In this case, I have to agree," Simon said softly, taking one last look at Randolph Bell.

"Nice to know my diagnosis is concurred with," Mal said humourlessly. He motioned Freya to go ahead of them, tossing the pack onto his shoulder again.

They stepped out into the fresh air, each taking great lungfuls to clear the smell of corruption. Except for Jayne, who leaned over the veranda railing and threw up, violently and noisily.

"Jayne?" Simon was immediately at his side, putting his hand on the bigger man's forehead. "My God, you're burning up."

"Don't feel too good," Jayne mumbled, spitting into the bushes.

"Why on earth didn't you say something?"

"On a job." He was having trouble focussing. "Never let things get in the way of a job." His knees buckled, and it was only Simon's arm around him that stopped him from falling.

Mal and Freya exchanged looks, and she ran for the shuttle to get the engines started.


	10. Chapter 10

The shuttle docked, and immediately the door opened. Mal stepped out, with Simon helping Jayne through. The big man had rallied somewhat on the trip back, mainly due to being forcibly fed water with some glucose dissolved into it.

"You're badly dehydrated," Simon explained. "That's why you threw up." He shook his head. "And you should have come to me as soon as you started to feel ill."

"Kinda came on me sudden," Jayne said, leaning back on the bulkhead. "Just ached a bit, then … wham."

"And what if there'd been shooting?" Mal asked, more than a little exasperated. "I needed to know, Jayne. What if we'd been on a job that went wrong, and you were needed? I doubt you could even hold a gun right now, let alone fire it."

"I ain't that bad."

"Keep drinking," Simon ordered. "Or I'll put you on a drip when we get back."

Jayne grimaced and took another mouthful, swallowing it painfully. "Anyway," he added to Mal, "this job ain't exactly ever gone right, has it?"

"Well we're gonna make it right," Mal said. "Taking it back."

"Still think we shoulda burned it," the ex-mercenary muttered, but only really to himself.

River was waiting. "Jayne."

"Moonbrain."

"You gonna keep him in line?" Mal asked. "Tell him he ain't allowed to do that again?"

"I shall remonstrate with him," the young woman promised.

"But you're going to the infirmary first," Simon ordered.

"Hang on there," Mal put in, holding out a restraining arm. He'd noticed movement in the cargo bay. Stepping to the railing, he looked over. "We got company?" he called to Zoe, who was watching Kaylee take a man and woman through towards the lower quarters.

"Yes, sir. Young couple."

"Good. Get them settled in. We'll be taking off as soon as we can."

"Did we get paid?"

"Sort of." Mal dropped the pack over the edge, Zoe catching it automatically. "I'll explain later."

She stared at the bag, as if it was about to burst into flames. "_Tzao gao_."

"Couldn't have put it better myself. Make sure it gets back somewhere … safe." Mal turned back to Simon. "If we've got paying customers we don't exactly want them to think they're on a plague boat. Will it make any difference if Jayne stays in his shuttle?"

"Well, I –"

"Be more comfy among my own things," the ex-mercenary said, leaning on the doorway. "And it ain't far if'n I need to get there."

Simon took in the man's pallor, the sweaty quality of his skin. "And if I tell you to go there, you go, _dong mah_?"

"_Dang rahn_."

"Then …" Simon warred with himself mentally, but the look the big man was giving him tipped the scales. "I'll get my medical kit, check you over inside."

"Thanks, doc." Jayne pulled himself forward, heading for his own bed, even as River put her shoulder under his arm. "Not my fault," he said softly.

"My Jayne needs to rest," she said, helping him across the catwalk to their home.

"He's in a bad way, doc," Mal said after they'd disappeared.

"I know." Concern knotted the younger man's forehead. "And there's no reason for it. The antibiotics I gave him should have cleared this right up."

"Then you'd better go take a look at that culture you got growing. If I'm likely to be out a gunhand, I'd like some fair warning." Mal strode away towards the bridge.

"He didn't mean it," Freya said quietly from the doorway to the shuttle. "He's as worried about Jayne as the rest of us."

"If I hadn't got used to what Mal says not being the same as what Mal means by now, I wouldn't be very good at my job, would I?"

"And you are, at that." Freya patted his arm and followed her husband. "Which is useful. 'Cause those antibiotics aren't up to snuff."

Simon stared after her for a moment, then hurried down the stairs to the infirmary. There was something else he hadn't checked, after all. Maybe he wasn't as good at his job as everyone thought.

---

Bethie watched as her mother prepared the evening meal. Something wasn't right, but every time she tried to put her finger on it, it seemed to skitter away. Something to do with Uncle Mal? Maybe. The passengers? Perhaps. She wanted to speak to Auntie River about it, but she was busy looking after Uncle Jayne. He was sick, and it was like a weight on all of them. That and the thing that had come back with them again. Auntie Frey had said they were taking it home, but it still made everything feel wrong. Maybe Auntie Frey could … but she was still a bit wary of going to her, after the business with Ethan.

She chewed on the edge of her nail.

"Sweetie?" Kaylee glanced at her daughter. "You all right?"

"Shiny." Bethie threw a quick smile then went back to work on her finger.

"You keep doing that and I'll have to get your Daddy to paint something nasty on you to stop you," Kaylee pointed out. "Else you'll end up half way up your arm."

"Mmn."

"You sure there ain't anything?"

Bethie realised her mother was gazing at her. "'M fine, Momma. Just hungry."

Kaylee smiled. "Never knew a minute you weren't." She turned back to the stove. "Not long now. Do you want to help set the table?"

"Okay, Momma." Anything to stop worrying.

---

"Mal, I've figured it out." Simon stood in the entrance to the bridge.

"Oh? What particular thing is this?" Mal looked round from the pilot's seat, giving Freya a break to bathe Jesse and get her ready for bed.

"Why Jayne's not improving."

"Best to come in and explain it to me, then."

Simon crossed the small room and dropped into the other chair. "It's the antibiotics themselves."

"What?"

"The culture I took shows the infection is pretty virulent, which is why Jayne's in the state he's in, but the antibiotics should still have stopped it."

"So you said."

"So I wondered … I tested the antibiotics themselves." He sighed heavily. "Most of them are just coloured water."

Mal sat up straighter. "Where'd we get them from?"

"Zoe picked them up on Ariel when we were here before," Simon explained. "I couldn't exactly go out, not on a Core planet, so –"

"All of 'em?"

"Most. Out of the ten phials she bought, eight are fakes."

"_Xian dao shen_, that could've killed the man."

"In point of fact, that was quite possible." Simon shook his head. "This particular infection could have run riot, shut down his kidneys, his liver … you seriously could have been burying him."

"Do you have enough? Of the real thing?" Mal quickly checked their position, making mental calculations. "If you need to get more, we can change course, head to –"

"No. It's all right. What I have is enough, so long as nobody else decides to damage themselves. I've already given him a full strength dose from what's left. He should be fine in a few days."

"Good to know." He glanced down the corridor. "Remind me to knock over a hospital soon, will you?"

"Don't worry, I will." Simon tapped his fingers on the arm rest.

"What?" Mal asked.

"I just … I wondered if there was any way of letting the authorities know? I'd hate to think someone else was relying on it, maybe died because it wasn't real."

Mal gazed at him, and was reminded that underneath it all, under that slight veneer he'd gained over the years, the rough edges he'd acquired, Simon Tam was still a law-abiding individual. If a person overlooked the breaking his sister out of the Academy, planning the St Lucy's robbery, and a few other master criminal activities, of course. "Maybe we can," Mal agreed. "I can perhaps get word to Sam, and he could pass it on to the powers that be."

"Isn't that long winded?"

"Better than having to explain to the Feds how come we needed that stuff in the first place."

"I take your point."

"I'll wave him 'fore we eat."

"I'd be grateful."

"That's always good, too." Mal smiled.

---

Mal and Ethan were almost the last to arrive at the dinner table, and as he stepped down into the galley, the young man he'd glimpsed earlier stood up.

"Captain Reynolds?" he asked, his face shining and eager.

"That I am."

"I'm Cody Dean, sir. And this is Sadie Russell." He indicated the girl at this side. "I just wanted to say … thank you. For taking us on board."

"Well, you're paying," Mal pointed out.

"I still wanted to thank you." He held out his hand. "Thanks."

Mal had to smile as they shook. Zoe had warned him about the boy's enthusiasm, but it was a little overwhelming, nevertheless. "You're welcome, I guess," he said. "Did Zoe introduce everyone?"

"Yes sir, pretty much."

"Well, Freya'll be along in a while. She's just making sure our daughter's asleep."

"I didn't know ships like this had children on board," Sadie Russell said, her voice pleasantly low.

"More'n you'd imagine." Mal helped Ethan climb into his chair. "You'd be surprised."

"Our son's already in bed," Hank added.

"So's Hope, my other daughter." Kaylee put a dish onto the table. "We're eating later than usual."

"Oh?" Cody raised his eyebrows. "I hope it wasn't us put you out."

"No," Mal said. "Just had a little business to take care of, that's all."

Freya stepped down into the dining area, and Cody, who was about to sit back, shot to his feet again. "Ma'am."

She smiled. "It certainly makes a change to see such nice manners on board," she observed.

"Hey, nothing wrong with our manners," Hank complained.

"No, you never had any," Zoe said.

"True, true. But Simon used to." He grinned at the young doctor. "Ain't that so?"

"A lifetime ago." Simon shook his head. "It seems like I've been on board this ship forever."

Kaylee swatted him with the back of her hand. "As if you'd have it any other way."

Mal chuckled, seeing Cody staring at his crew. "You'd better sit down, son," he said. "As much as I'd like it, we don't stand on ceremony here."

"Besides, the food's ready," Kaylee added, handing a platter of bread to her captain. "You know, Frey's right. Good manners is real nice. Cody here only wanted to help me get all this ready. I almost had to throw him out of the kitchen."

The young man blushed. "I just … don't like feeling useless."

"You can always help wash up after," Mal suggested, only to feel Freya's foot come down on his. "Except you're a guest, as my wife here has just reminded me."

"I don't mind."

"Let's eat," Freya said firmly. "Before it gets cold."

---

"Ya don't have to stay in here with me," Jayne complained, but only mildly.

"I want to," River said, sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed.

"Ya could be down there with 'em all, laughing and telling jokes."

"I don't tell jokes."

"Making sure everyone has what they want."

"Kaylee's doing that."

"Keepin' everyone in line."

"Mal's job."

"Hell, River …" He threw his hands up into the air. "Can't you let a man die in peace?"

She gazed at him, her dark eyes huge in the dim light. "You're not dying. Simon said so."

"And he'd know?"

"Yes." She held out the bowl again. "You have to eat."

He peered inside. "Looks like mush."

"It's proteins, vitamins and carbohydrates. That's all you need to know."

"Looks like the food Zoe used to give Ben."

"Similar."

"I ain't a baby, Riv."

"Prove it." She put the bowl under his chin. "Eat."

"Hell."

"I've brought mine to eat with you."

"Bet it's better'n this."

"It's the same. Just not … mushy."

He stared at it. "Moonbrain …"

"Eat. Or Caleb and I will leave you. Forever."

He was about to make a joke, then swallowed at the seriousness on her face. "You wouldn't, would you?"

"If you don't eat, you won't get better." She shrugged. "So maybe we won't actually physically leave you, but you'd leave us. And I won't have that." She handed him a spoon. "Eat."

"I am sick, ya know," he grumbled, picking up the bowl and stirring the sludge. "Gorramit …"

---

As Mal listened and contributed to the conversation around the table, Freya surreptitiously watched Ethan. He was moving his food around his plate, scarcely even tasting it. Every so often a forkful would vanish below the edge of the table, coming up empty, while the sound of satisfied canine jaws working assiduously came from underneath.

Eventually she leaned over. "If you feed that dog much more, he's going to get so fat his little legs won't be able to reach the ground."

Ethan stared at her, and she could clearly see the image in his mind of Fiddler shaped like a fat salami, all four of his feet a good inch off the floor, kicking madly. He snorted with amusement. "Sorry, Mama," he said nasally.

"Aren't you hungry?"

He shook his head. "Can't taste nothing." He touched his nose gingerly. "All bunged up."

"I know, and Bethie did apologise." She smiled at her son. "Come here." Lifting him from his seat she put him on her knee. "You're getting heavy," she said, stroking his hair from his face.

"Big boy," he agreed.

"But you won't grow up tall and strong like your Daddy if you don't eat."

"Don't want it."

"No, okay. But that's no excuse to feed Fiddler until he goes bang."

He giggled. "He wanted to help."

"Mmn." She glanced under the table to where the little dog was waiting hopefully. "Well, I suppose one meal isn't going to hurt." Ethan suppressed a yawn, wincing as it made his nose hurt. "Are you tired?"

"Little bit."

"Then I think an early night wouldn't be amiss either." She got to her feet, and Mal looked up.

"Frey?"

"Just putting Ethan down."

"You okay, big feller?" Mal asked his son.

"Sleepy." Ethan yawned again.

"Well, soon as supper's done, and if you're still awake, I'll come read you a story, how about that?"

Ethan smiled. "'Es please, Daddy."

Freya carried him down the corridor to their hatch, putting him onto the deck so he could negotiate the ladder himself. As soon as he reached the bottom he started to pull off his clothes, leaving them where they fell. With an indulgent smile, Freya picked them up, following him into the nursery. Just like his father, she thought.

Jesse was fast asleep, her thumb in her mouth, half the covers pushed back. She murmured something unintelligible as Freya straightened the bed, but didn't wake.

Helping Ethan into his pyjamas, Freya said, "Is your nose really congested?"

The little boy nodded. "Feels like I got two fingers up there." He went to demonstrate, but she pulled his hand down gently.

"Then maybe I have just the thing. You get into bed." She headed into the other room as he scrambled under the blanket, but was back in a moment, a slim metallic cylinder in her hand.

"What's that?" Ethan looked at it curiously.

"It was a gift from your Auntie 'Nara. When I was carrying you." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's meant to be calming, and she said I needed that, but all I found was that it cleared my sinuses." She took off the lid and twisted the base. Immediately the scent of eucalyptus, menthol and lavender began to fill the small room. "Can you smell that?"

Ethan sniffed experimentally. His eyes widened. "'Es."

"Then I'll leave it here." She put it down on the bedside table. "It's got a timer, so you don't need to worry about it. But it should help you sleep."

"Thank you." He snuggled down. "Stay with me?"

"Well … all right. I've had all I wanted, so … a story?"

"Please."

"If Daddy comes down we don't tell him, okay? He likes reading you stories."

"He does all the noises," Ethan agreed, and giggled. It turned into a yawn.

Freya smiled at her son, and for the umpteenth time gave thanks for her good fortune in having such a family. Jesse snuffled in her sleep as she picked up Ethan's favourite book, and opened it. "Once upon a time …"

---

"So where do you plan on going after Persephone?" Mal asked, glancing round as River stepped silently into the dining area carrying the used plates.

Cody shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe stay there. There should be some work around."

"Well, we know a few folks. Might be able to put you right. What kinda thing do you do?" He blinked a couple of times to try and clear his vision, which seemed to be a little blurred.

"Oh, anything that pays."

"That's a mite general. Can you be more specific?"

Simon interrupted with a huge yawn, belatedly covering his mouth with his hand. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "That's really rude. Do forgive me."

"Teaching Bethie bad habits," River said, then shaking her head as if there was ringing in her ears.

"I think it's catching, doc," Mal said, nodding at Hank who was doing exactly the same thing, then being caught by surprise as his own jaw dropped.

There was a sound in the corner of the room, by the easy chairs.

"Mama, I think Fiddler just threw up," Bethie said, as the little dog skulked out. He was looking very sorry for himself.

"Oh, no." Kaylee stood up, putting her hand on the back of Simon's chair to stop herself swaying.

"Honey?" he asked, looking up at her, but unable to focus properly.

"I don't feel well," Bethie added, holding her stomach.

"Not sure I feel too good myself, short stub," Hank agreed. "Didn't think I'd eaten that much …" He clamped a hand to his mouth, swallowing hard.

"What the hell's going on?" Mal said his own belly rolling a little. He tried to stand up, but found he had no strength.

River stared at Cody and Sadie, who had small smiles on their lips, and she pushed through the fog surrounding her to look into their minds. "Drugs," she whispered, backing away from them and turning to run from the galley.

Simon jerked his head up, but he couldn't tell what he was looking at. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his arms gave way and he sat down heavily, gulping like a fish.

Zoe, her reflexes dulled, tried to grab one of the sharp knives on the table, but her hand overshot and she knocked over the water jug. As it dripped off the wooden surface, she slid down onto the floor. Hank reached down to help her but ended up next to her, even as Kaylee tried to reach Bethie, her legs not belonging to her.

Mal managed at last to lever himself to a standing position, but he was swaying, his head dropping. _Frey_, he thought as strongly as he could, even as his mind fogged and his body gave up.

Down in the bunk Freya dropped the story book, her head lifting. "Mal."

"Daddy?" Ethan looked her, his eyes wide, scared.

"Hide," she ordered. "Like I showed you." She got to her feet, feeling heavier than she should. "Now, Ethan."

"Yes, Mama." He scrambled from the bed, opening the small hideaway in the bulkhead that Jayne had built for him. Gathering Jesse into his arms, wrapped in her blanket, he slid inside, the wall closing after him.

Pausing only to make sure her children were safe, Freya grabbed her gun, sticking it into the back of her pants. She started to climb the ladder, but each step was more difficult, and as she reached the corridor her vision was clouding. She tried to get to the galley, but her legs were like jelly. She fell forward, unconscious before her face hit the decking.

River could feel them, one by one, switching off, even as she pulled her way along towards the shuttle. _Have to get there_, she told herself. _Have to_ …_ Jayne?_

_Moonbrain?_ Pulling himself up, his massive strength no more than a kitten, he watched in horror as she stumbled in, beginning to fall. He went to catch her, but slipped to his knees. "What the hell …?"

"Drugs," she whispered.

"Need to get my guns …" he murmured, but collapsed. A moment later he felt her weight land on his back. "River …"

But there was no response. He lay there, fuming, not able to move an inch, not even twitch a toe. River's weight on him told him she was unconscious as much as the fact that, no matter how hard he thought at her, she didn't answer. At least he could feel her breathing.

Finally there was the sound of the shuttle door opening, just as a shudder ripped through the ship. Something had locked on, he knew, even as River was lifted off him. But that meant …

He was rolled over, and he looked up into the face of Cody Dean.

"Still awake?" Cody said conversationally. "See, that's what comes of not eating up all your food." He grinned. "Well, we can put that right."

Jayne would have cursed, if he could, but a boot flashed towards his temple, and his internal lights went off.


	11. Chapter 11

Ethan waited, listening. Jesse was now wide awake, holding onto him, even as he shushed her.

"Mama?" she asked. "Mama?"

"You keep quiet," he said, able to pick out her face in the small amount of light coming through where one of the bolts was missing and touching her lips, trying to get her to understand. She looked as scared as he felt. "She said we had to stay here."

"Dada?"

"Not sure," the little boy said. Screwing up his face, he consciously dismantled the walls in his mind, taking them apart brick by brick, until there was nothing between him and the 'verse. _Mama?_ he called, then again, harder. _Mama?_ He recoiled. She was there, but it was like she was faceless, just an outline, nothing more. "Not sure," he repeated.

---

Cody Dean sauntered down the stairs to the airlock controls, pressing down on the button. The inner doors squealed open, and he grinned at the man revealed. "Boss," he said, dipping his head just a little.

Reed Prater didn't even crack a smile. "They're all incapacitated?" he asked, walking into the Firefly, favouring his chest somewhat.

"Every last one of 'em," Cody agreed. "Worked like a dream."

"That's what you paid us for," Sadie added, standing on the top catwalk. She'd changed her pretty dress for a more practical set of pants and shirt, but she still looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

That was why they were so successful, Prater decided. "And nobody's hurt?"

Cody shrugged. "Can't say there won't be a few bruises when they come to, but that's about it. No bullet or knife wounds, if that's what you're talking about."

"Good. I have some ideas for Malcolm Reynolds, and I want him alive and conscious while I do them."

"Well, he's up in the galley with most of the others."

"Jasper!" Prater shouted, wincing a little as the not-quite-healed wound pulled.

"Yeah, boss?" His subordinate jogged out of the other ship.

"Get the boys and bring the crew down here."

"Sure, boss." He disappeared through the airlock.

"You know there are kids on board," Sadie put in. "Five, by my count."

Prater barely raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"Nothing. Just thought you'd like to know."

He considered. "Actually, that might be a good thing." He looked up at her. "Get them all together. The kids. Put 'em in one of the shuttles, and you keep an eye on 'em."

"I'm not a babysitter." Her tone had dropped, chilled.

"You're what I pay you to be, as your brother pointed out. And I'm paying you now to sit those kids."

She didn't quite scowl, as she knew it would harden her looks, but she glanced down at Cody.

"Do it, sis," he said. "I'm sure Mr Prater here will be more than generous."

"And if they get fractious?"

Prater gave a bark of laughter. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle them. Just don't hurt them too much. I've got plans for them."

She nodded and disappeared through the top hatch.

"And me?" Cody asked.

"How long before they wake up?"

"The amount most of them took in, at least four hours."

"Then that gives us enough time to make preparations." He smiled grimly. "Can you fly this piece of _gos se_?"

"Sure." Cody tipped his head to one side. "My father had one for a while, used it for smuggling. He taught me how to do what was needed to make a quick getaway. Until I slit his throat, of course."

"You are such a lovely family," Prater said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"But we're worth every penny." He grinned wider. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Figure out where they were going. I can't see any reason to land on Ariel twice, and they stayed but a few hours each time."

"The first mate said it was Persephone."

"Yeah, except this isn't the way to Persephone. I think they were taking a little detour, and I'd like to know why."

"You know what curiosity did to the cat, don't you?"

"No, I think that was your sister. Just do it."

Cody inclined his head. "You're the boss." He took the stairs two at a time, adding under his breath, "Least for now."

---

Someone was in their bunk, Ethan could tell. There were noises of someone moving around, tossing things about, and it was all he could do to keep Jesse quiet.

"Anyone down there?" he heard a voice call.

"Nah." A different voice, deeper, gruffer. "Looks like there should be two kids, but the beds are empty."

"Anything worth taking?"

"Coupla guns, that's it."

"No cash?"

"Not that I can find."

"Well, we'll have plenty of time to look later. Come on, otherwise Jasper'll start mouthing off."

"Ain't him I'm worried about. More like that little bitch."

"I know what you mean. Way she looks as you you'd just as likely to end up waking without …" Their voices faded as they climbed out of the bunk.

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. The two men hadn't even tried to find their hiding place. He mentally called again. _Mama? Daddy? Auntie River? _He swallowed. _Bethie? Anyone?_ But there was still nothing. He started to bite his thumb.

"_Ge ge_?" Jesse whispered, clutching at him.

"It'll be okay," he murmured back. "It'll be okay. They'll come for us." _Mama?_

---

Jasper organised the transfer of Serenity's crew to the cargo bay, watching as Sadie carried two young children into the shuttle. This might have been his idea – keep tabs on the Firefly, and hire someone to pose as a passenger, dope everyone – but it was Prater found the Deans. And he was so proud of it, too.

Trouble was, they made Jasper's skin crawl. Most of those who'd heard of them had the same stories to tell, of how appearances were so deceptive, and they were willing to do anything for money. Anything. At all. Cody used his youthful, open looks to get into people's confidence, gaining their sympathy. Then there'd be blood. Sometimes the bodies were found, sometimes not. On one memorable occasion an entire household was slaughtered, including the pets, but that was more a rumour than a proven fact. Although Jasper wouldn't put it past them.

"Hey, be careful," he said loudly as two of his crewmates dropped a young man onto the floor, his head cracking audibly on the metal decking.

"Why?" one of them asked.

"We can't sell them if they're damaged."

The man shrugged. "Guess might be more difficult. But we ain't nursemaids."

"Just … be more careful."

"There's two missing," Sadie announced, appearing on the catwalk again.

"What?" Jasper stared up at her.

"Two kids. Looks like the captain's."

"Have you searched everywhere?"

"I'm not paid to search. I've looked in the likely places, if that's what you mean." She wasn't quite sneering at him, but close.

"Gorramit." He exhaled heavily. "'Kay, you go keep an eye on the ones you got, and I'll go tell Prater." He shook his head as he trudged up the stairs towards the bridge.

---

"You sure?" Prater asked, staring at the screen.

"That's the co-ordinates," Cody Dean responded. "Aegis."

"There's nothing there but sand and a few derelict temples."

"That's true. Although there is something else you might be interested in." He swung in the pilot's chair.

"What? Look, I don't have the time for you to be playing –"

"Yes, you do. There's nothing you _can_ do until Reynolds wakes up. Not if you want him to enjoy it."

Prater held onto his temper, but it was by a whisker. "What else do you know that I might be interested in?"

"They went to Aegis before."

"What?"

Cody tapped the screen. "It's all here, their entire trip. Ariel to Aegis to Ariel. And now back." He raised an eyebrow at the older man. "I think that's interesting. Don't you?"

"What the hell was that man up to?"

"Can't say. They don't keep logs."

"Could you have hacked them if they did?"

"No. But Sadie could." He grinned. "Not that it matters. Their Cortex searches were just as interesting."

"What?"

"You know, you should have that recorded. Then you just press a button and you don't have to keep saying 'what' all the time."

Suddenly Prater had Cody around the throat, his hands pressing just hard enough to make the young man gasp for air. "I don't take kindly to being made a fool of. You should know that by now. It's why we're here, after all." He looked into Cody's pale green eyes, like fresh grass. "You understand that, don't you?"

Cody managed to nod. He tried to speak but the words were stuck behind strong fingers.

"Good." Prater's lips lifted, then he let go.

Cody sat up, taking in a deep lungful of air and massaging his throat. "That wasn't necessary," he said, his voice rasping, making a mental note not to take this man for the pompous _jiao lu_ he appeared.

"I'm the boss. I think it was." He stood upright, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. "Now. Cortex logs?"

The young mercenary twisted his head, trying to get his neck to feel normal, then said, "They were looking up a place called _Ling Miao_. And the tale of a golden statue."

"Wha …" He stopped himself. "A statue? Actual gold?"

"So the books say. And a curse, but who believes in them?"

Prater ignored him. A gold statue. That would make up for Sullivan not paying him, for Reynolds taking the cargo out from under him, for shooting him … well, nearly. He still intended taking his resentment out of that man's hide. "Do you think they found it?"

Cody shrugged. "I doubt it. If I'd come up with something like that, I wouldn't be still flying round in this _gou shi_ ship. But I guess you'll just have to wait until they wake up to ask them. Boss," he added belatedly.

Jasper, standing in the bridge doorway, coughed lightly.

Prater turned. "Everything done?"

"Pretty much," Jasper said. "Only Sadie says two of the kids can't be found." He waited for Prater to blow up. "Reynolds' spawn."

Prater surprised them both. "They can't have got off. Take the men, do a search, but I'm not too worried. They have to be somewhere." A thought occurred to him. "How old are they?"

"The boy's about three or four, the girl's not a year," Cody put in.

"Then they won't be any danger to us, and if they're hiding, they'll soon come out when they get hungry." He smiled slightly. "And when they do, maybe they're just what we need to get Reynolds to tell us about that gold statue."

---

It was like swimming through treacle, he decided afterwards. It was heavy, and sticky, and all around him, impeding his attempts to get to the surface. It was in his ears, too, so although he knew there were voices, he couldn't make out what they were saying. His eyes wouldn't open, either, glued together as if they were meant to stay that way.

"Mal?"

Someone was talking at him. At least he thought it was at him. Right now, _Mal_ could be just about anyone.

"Mal. You have to wake up."

He knew they were words, but what they meant was another matter.

"Gorramit, why ain't he waking up?"

"Just because your constitution's like a horse, doesn't mean other people can throw off the effects as easily."

"Hey, I'm still sick, ya know. And you woke up 'fore me."

"Can we not fight? I know you two love to bicker, but this isn't really the time. Did anyone see what they did with Ben?"

"No. Nor the other children."

This time the worry in the last voice got through, and he managed to pry one eye open. He grunted as the light hurt. "Huh."

"Mal?"

A face swam into view, blurred and pale. "Simon?" He blinked hard. "How come I can't see you properly?"

"Give it a few moments, Mal. It'll clear quickly."

"Oh, good." He shifted slightly, realising quickly that he was bound hand and foot, leaning against one of the cages from the feel. "Anyone wanna tell me what the _diyu _happened?"

"_I_ happened, Captain Reynolds."

Mal looked towards the voice he almost recognised. "And would you be the _hwoon dahn_ who's invaded my boat?"

The man laughed. "You know, from your reputation, I really thought it was going to be harder. But you're too honourable, Reynolds. Too trusting. Letting my people on board, just 'cause they looked helpless."

"Always did say that'd kill ya," Jayne grumbled.

His vision slowly clearing, Mal felt his heart sink as he recognised Reed Prater. "All of this? Just because of a slight argument?"

"You shot me!"

"Only a little bit. And I don't think it was me."

"You're captain. The buck stops with you."

To hear Freya's words when she berated him for not finishing Prater off almost repeated back to him made Mal sigh, then look around anxiously for her. She was sitting on the cargo bay floor, blinking at him. It looked as if she was tied up too. In fact, all his crew were there, trussed up like turkeys ready for market. All except the children.

_They're okay_, he heard her voice in his mind. _I think they're okay._

He pushed the panic back under control, taking a moment to study his people. Hank, Jayne and Simon were bunched together, holding each other up, while River was glaring at Prater, her dark eyes unmoving, unblinking, as if she was truly trying to kill him with her brain. Perhaps she was. Kaylee looked as groggy as Freya, both of them propped against crates. Only Zoe still seemed to be out of it, her head lolled onto her chest.

"Zoe?" he asked softly.

"I think she hit her head when she went down," Simon said, his face worried. "I don't like her breathing. I need to –"

"You need to just sit there and shut up," Prater said. "Or Cody here will shut you up."

The young man next to him smiled, one arm cradling an awfully familiar gun.

"Hey!" Jayne protested, suddenly realising. "That's Vera!"

"You name your guns?" Cody laughed.

"She ain't yours!"

The young man ran a hand along the barrel, making Jayne squirm with anger. "It's a Callahan autolock, isn't it? Nice piece. I'll enjoy selling _her_." He put deliberate emphasis on the last word, his grin reminding them all of an alligator.

"She ain't yours to sell." Jayne was tugging at the bindings around his wrist, but they were too tight.

"Everything here's ours now," Cody said, going down onto his heels in front of the big man. "Every single thing."

Jayne scowled at him, then glanced over at his captain. "You should've let me do that party for you, 'stead of taking this job."

Mal sighed. "Okay! Fine. We get out of here, you can arrange something. Small. Just the crew. And no balloons."

"Aw, Mal -"

"No balloons!"

Prater was watching them in astonishment. "You seriously think you're getting out of this?" he asked.

Mal looked up. "I'm gonna be burying your corpsified body, that's what I'm seriously thinking."

"Oh, I was planning on it being exactly the other way around. But you'll be pleased to know I don't want the others damaged too much." He motioned Cody away. "That much harder to sell if they're not in one piece."

"Sell?" Simon asked.

"Terraforming crews need labour." He looked River up and down, unphased by her dark glare. "Although there's a few places out on the Rim might take the women."

"Slavers," Mal spat.

"Hell, no sense wasting good cargo." Prater smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Not that I'm gonna hand them over 'til I've done with you. Besides, I've got one or two questions for you, and I think they should see what it means to try and take me on."

"You think?" Mal almost laughed. "There've been worse than you after us, and we survived."

"Worse?" Despite himself Prater was curious. "What fool'd let you get the better of him?"

"Ever heard of a feller called Niska?"

Prater's eyes narrowed. "Adelai Niska?"

"That's him."

Jasper licked suddenly dry lips. "Boss, if they've -"

Prater shook off his restraining hand. "Nah. I don't believe it."

"Seen him around, have you? Lately, I mean?" Mal let his lips curve. "Not that you would. Not with how we left him. Or rather, what was left _of_ him."

For a long moment Prater just stared at him, then he nodded at Cody. The young man let loose with a kick that connected with the small of Mal's back, propelling him onto his side, gasping in pain.

Freya fought impotently with the ties around her wrists, rage tinting her sight red.

"Ain't got the time for your lies," Prater said, looking around. "Where's a good place to ask our good captain here about that gold statue?"

"Infirmary's through there," Cody said, gesturing with Vera. "Lots of nice, sharp implements. Easy for the blood to be cleaned up too, before we sell this heap of junk."

Prater glanced down at the man still writhing on the floor. "Pick him up."


	12. Chapter 12

Ethan sighed in relief. "Mama's awake. So's Daddy."

Jesse didn't really understand, but she knew her brother wasn't so taut with fear anymore. She put her thumb in her mouth and began to suck loudly. She was hungry, and thirsty too, but it looked like neither appetite were likely to be satisfied in the near future. "Mama," she mumbled.

Then Ethan jerked, his eyes widening. "Daddy."

---

"Give me a hand, Burkett," Cody said, leaning down and getting his hands under Mal's arms, and between them they dragged Mal to his feet. "Come on," he added. "You've got an appointment to keep."

"I think my diary's pretty full," Mal said, his muscles complaining from being in the same position for so long. "But I think I can fit you in next Tuesday, if you wanna come back."

"Do you always crack inappropriate jokes at times like this?" Prater asked.

"It's one of my more endearing traits." Mal glanced at Freya, seeing so much worry in her face that he didn't need to read it in his mind. "Ain't that so, honey?"

"Along with leaving your socks on the table," she agreed, her voice hardly quavering at all.

"Niska thought the same," Mal went on. "Not about the socks, of course, but my surprising wit. Although he had a more direct approach. He just wanted to kill me."

"I'm not surprised," Prater said. "Get him into the infirmary," he added to Cody.

The young man nodded. "Don't worry, I'll cut that wit out of you," he promised. "I have a few tricks of my own, if the boss runs out. And I just know I can get you to talk." He grinned, his youthful features open and happy, almost as if he was discussing who he was going to take to the local dance, and not about torturing someone. "Although it's much more fun if you don't. At least for a while."

"_Chur ni duh_," Mal said pleasantly in return.

Cody jabbed his fist into Mal's belly, and he slid to his knees, unable to breathe.

"Stop!" Freya shouted, her voice drowned among the others protesting.

Prater fired his gun into the cargo bay ceiling. "_Bizui!_" he commanded.

"I'm gonna kill you," Jayne promised. "And it'll take a long time. I'll make sure of that."

"I hardly think you're in a position to be threatening me," Prater said, holstering his weapon. "Seeing as I'm not the one trussed up." He turned to look at Cody. "Maybe we will try some of your ideas," he said. "Are they messy?"

"Very."

"Will he be recognisable by the end?"

"Do you want him to be?"

"Not particularly."

Cody's grin widened. "Then there's some stuff Sadie's shown me."

"I'm sure there is." Prater jerked his head slightly. "Come on. Time's wasting here."

Cody and Burkett hauled Mal towards the common area doorway, his body hanging between them as he fought for breath.

"Mal –" "Cap –" "No!" "Don't you dare," Jayne added, but they were all outdone by Simon.

"Wait!" he shouted. "I can help you!"

"What?" Prater span on his heel.

"You don't have to … I'll tell you about the statue."

The others looked at him, and Mal glared, even through the pain in his belly and back. "You keep that pretty mouth shut," he managed to grind out.

Simon ignored him. "You're right. It's on Aegis. In a hidden room. It's worth a fortune."

Prater's eyes glittered. "Then how come you didn't take it?"

The young man shrugged as best he could in the bindings. "We needed to find a buyer. And there's so many pirates around these days, the captain thought it was better to leave it where it was until we did."

"Simon, don't you say another word," Mal warned, but Cody slammed him in the gut again, this time with Vera, and he cried out. The two men let him fall to the deck.

Hank was looking from one to the other, his grey eyes wide in shock. "Look, no, you can't -"

"And did you?" Prater asked, ignoring the others.

"Yes. A man called Randolph Bell. He's a professor at Ariel University. We were going back to pick it up, deliver it to him and collect the money. It would have –"

"I don't particularly care what you were going to do with the cash. You won't be in a position to spend it anyway." Prater's eyes narrowed. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"There's a plaque. We took it as proof. Dr Bell would know from that it was –"

"Plaque?" He dropped to his heels next to the young man, then grimaced as the finally-healing wound in his chest pulled. "What plaque?"

"You know, I might be able to help you with that," Simon said, nodding towards his torso. "I'm a doctor, and I could -"

Prater hit him, slamming his head back against Jayne's. The big man grunted, and lights swam in front of Simon's vision. Kaylee's wail filled the cargo bay.

"_C__ao ni zuzong shíba dai_," Freya yelled, struggling again.

"You stop that," Cody said quietly, resting Vera against her temple. "Or I'll be tempted to show you a few things myself." She glared at him, and he felt his skin crawl from the inside. He clicked off the Callahan's safety, very loud in the suddenly silent bay. "And that."

"Frey …" Mal murmured from his position on the floor, and she looked at him. "Don't. Please."

"Cody, you don't shoot anyone until I say," Prater ordered.

The young killer put his head onto one side. "Just her. As an example to the rest."

"Cody."

"All right." Slipping the safety back on, he used the tip of the barrel to run down Freya's cheek, almost a caress. "Later," he promised.

Prater turned back to Simon. "Now, what plaque?"

---

Ethan was biting the inside of his lip so hard he could taste blood. "Mama," he whispered, holding tightly onto Jesse, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. "Daddy."

---

"There's a secret compartment. In the bulkhead over there." Simon nodded towards the wall. "There's a catch. If you untie me I can show -"

"Cody," Prater interrupted. "Find it."

"Boss." He crossed to the section indicated and rested Vera against a crate.

"There's deadfalls and traps in the tunnels," Simon went on. "The plaque is the key."

"How?" Prater demanded.

"It has to go back into place first, before you try and take the statue. Otherwise the whole place collapses."

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Why would I lie?"

Prater gazed at him, considering, then asked, "Any of the kids his?"

"The oldest girl," Cody supplied, feeling along the metal seams. "And the little blonde one."

"Well, just consider this." He smiled at Simon, his eyes cold. He grabbed his hair, pulling his head back until the tendons in his neck stretched painfully. "If you're not telling the truth, if you're trying to play me somehow, I promise it'll go hard on them. On _all_ the kids."

"No!" Kaylee shouted.

"I'm not lying," Simon said between gritted teeth. "There's a gold statue, covered with gems." He let his eyes snap to Mal and back. "He's seen it."

Mal struggled into a sitting position. "Simon, I'm warning you -"

"And I'm trying to save your life!" For a man who hardly ever raised his voice, he could fill the cargo bay without trying. "Ever since I've been on board I've been the poor relation, kept happy with scraps. You've never even asked me if I think jobs are a good idea, you're just gone ahead and taken them, regardless of what others say. Well, this time I'm doing what I think is right." He looked at Prater. "I'll show you where the statue is. But you have to promise to let us go."

"Found it," Cody called, lifting the bulkhead section away and reaching into the dark space beyond.

Prater let his lips lift. "I might consider it."

"He doesn't know where it is," Mal scoffed. "He didn't go inside. Too much of a coward. Afraid of ghosts."

Cody unwrapped the plaque and handed it to Prater. "It's not gold," he pointed out.

"I never said it was," Simon put in quickly. "Just that it's the key."

"_Did_ you go inside?" Prater asked, standing up to examine the carvings on the ancient wood, then wiping one hand down his pants.

"Well -"

"None of us did," Jayne put in quickly. "Only the Cap. He didn't trust the rest of us." He managed to put a fair amount of contempt into his tone. "Decided we weren't _honourable_ enough. He went alone."

"Do any of the rest of you know the way? The traps?" Prater looked around the bound crew, but none answered. He laughed. "Loyal family you have here, Reynolds."

"Sure they are," Mal said, glaring at them.

Something buzzed in Jasper's pocket and he pulled out a small com unit. "Yes?"

"_Coming into Aegis orbit in ten minutes_," said a tinny voice. "_What do you want us to do?_"

Jasper looked at Prater in enquiry, who said, "Can he land the ships together?"

"Warren, can you land -" Jasper began.

"_I heard. No. Turbulence of re-entry would likely tear us apart anyway, maybe burn us both up._"

Prater nodded. "Then we'll disengage. Warren can stay on board with Holder, but everyone else comes with us."

Jasper spoke into the comm unit. "You heard that too?"

"_I did. Where'd you want me to set down?_"

"Next to this heap," Prater said.

"_Okay. Make sure the airlock's closed from your side._"

"Doing it." He hurried to the controls and pressed the button, the inner doors grinding closed. All the lights showed green. "We're locked tight."

"_Disengaging._" There was a shudder through Serenity as the other ship let go the seal. "_Good luck._" The com unit went silent.

Prater turned to Mal. "Seems like you've got a reprieve," he said conversationally. "For a little while." He half-smiled. "Cody, get us down next to that temple. Captain Reynolds here is going to help us get rich."

---

Ethan relaxed a little, feeling his mother do the same, but there was still tension and anger coming from her in waves, and a real worry for her children. He wanted to help, needed to help, but she'd told him to hide. Made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he was to stay hidden with Jesse until she or his father came and got them.

Jesse moaned a little, her face screwing up. "_Ge ge_," she whined. "Stie." It was her version of the word thirsty.

"I know," Ethan whispered. "Me too." He shook his head. "But we have to –"

"Stie." She began to cry, her small fist in her mouth.

"Okay. Jesse, shh. I'll get something." He reached up to the catch on the inside of the wall, listening hard. He had to risk it.

---

Mal watched Prater follow Cody through the top hatch towards the bridge. "Quick thinking there, doc," he breathed, eyeing the two men who'd been left in charge of them as they rummaged through one of the cages in the corner. "And thanks."

Hank stared at them. "You were playing?"

"Quietly, Hank, quietly. And no, no games." Mal looked at Simon gratefully. "Just bought us a little time. Me, anyway."

Simon shook his head. "It's all I could think of."

"Just enough truth to make it real, and a palatable lie," River put in. "I didn't know you had it in you." She was proud of him.

He gave her a small smile. "But we're still tied up. And I don't see how it helps."

"Me neither," Mal admitted. "But at least they ain't cutting on me. And maybe down on Aegis I can turn the tables."

"How?" Hank asked, but didn't wait for an answer as Zoe moaned. "Honey?" He tried to lean forward to get closer to her.

"_Mei pigu yan_," she muttered.

"That must be your influence," Mal said, relieved more than he'd ever care to admit. "I'm pretty sure she never cussed as much with me as she does now with you."

Hank glared at him, then went back to looking at his wife. "Zoe?"

"Anyone get the registration of the ship that hit me?" she asked, lifting her head and blinking hard.

"Yeah, that we did," Mal replied. "Trouble is, it's still around."

"I think someone needs to explain things to me," his first mate said. "And why am I tied up?"

---

Ethan tugged the wall back into place, hearing it click, then handed Jesse the mug of water. "Here," he said.

She grabbed it with both hands, sucking it down her dry throat, not caring that some of the liquid ran down her chin onto her nightdress. It didn't take long to empty. "K'you," she said.

"You're welcome." Ethan rubbed her face dry. "You okay now?"

"'Gry." Hungry. That's what she was saying.

"Me too." He shook his head unhappily. "Can't, Jesse. Not safe. We have to stay here." He had been terrified getting just the water, his heart pounding hard all the while, listening for someone to open the hatch and find him. "Not safe."

"Mama." The little girl didn't care about it being safe or not. She wanted her mother to hold her, to feel her warmth. "Mama."

"Oh, Jesse," Ethan moaned, pulling her against him. "Me too."

---

Cody landed Serenity in the same place as before, but with a lot less finesse than Hank.

The pilot winced as the Firefly's landing struts took almost double the weight that they were designed for as Cody cut the thrusters half a second too soon. The ship groaned.

"_Hun zhang_," he murmured.

Prater didn't even appear to notice. "Get him up," he said to Jasper, kicking Mal's feet.

"Boss, do you really think this is a good idea?" Jasper asked, rubbing his hands together as if he was cold. "I mean, traps and deadfalls ... he might just be planning to lead you into one and then where would you be?"

"Jasper." There was more than a warning tone in Prater's voice, but the other man didn't seem to hear.

"Why don't you just do what you were going to do, and we can –"

Prater slapped him, hard, across the left cheek. "Enough!" he thundered. "And don't you go thinking I don't know this is all your fault in the first place. If you hadn't let some _po fu_ distract you back on Bernadette we'd still have the goods, and I wouldn't have had some hack digging around my insides!"

Jasper stood still a moment, not touching the burning skin, then nodded. He pulled a knife from his pocket, sliding the blade out before going down onto his knees and cutting the bindings around Mal's ankles. He glanced into the other man's face, almost apologetically.

Cody Dean appeared on the top catwalk. "We're down," he said unnecessarily.

"Yeah." Prater glared. "Next time can you try a bit harder to crash us? I don't think it quite worked today." Maybe he had noticed.

Cody just shrugged. "It's been a while."

Jasper hauled Mal to his feet, holding him up until enough feeling came back in his legs to be able to stand unaided. "Ready, boss."

"Not quite." Prater looked at the rest of the still-bound crew. "Maybe you were right after all," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe we could do with a little insurance. I wouldn't put it past our good captain here to lead us into a trap, even though it'd kill him too, just to save the rest. So we take another with us." His eyes settled on Freya.

"You want her?" Cody asked, stepping forward. "She's his wife. Not likely to want anything to happen to her."

Prater frowned as he realised where he'd seen her before. "And have her hit me again? I don't think so." He smiled. "No, we'll take that one." He pointed to River. "She'll be easy to control, little thing like she is, and I'm sure Malcolm won't want her getting hurt either."

Mal pulled his arm free of Jasper's grasp. "I won't make trouble," he said quickly. "I'll show you the way, help you get the statue. Believe me, it's worth more'n both our ships, and you can take what you want. You can have the lot, including the plaque. I'm giving it to you, right now. Do what you want with me, too. Just let my crew go. And leave the girl here." He licked his lips. "Please."

Prater smiled slowly. "Nice to hear a man beg for a change. But we're taking her. As for letting the rest of you go, I'll think about it. Once I've got that statue in my hands." He picked up the plaque. "Get her ready," he instructed. "Jasper, you go up to the bridge, keep in com contact. Burkett'll watch this lot, although I know they won't be any trouble. Sadie's staying too, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you she has your kids with her. And she really doesn't like children, so just sit quietly." He slammed his palm down onto the door control, hearing the gears grinding. "Cody, grab the torches. Time for us to make ourselves very wealthy men."


	13. Chapter 13

The heat hadn't dissipated on Aegis, and Mal vaguely wondered why he thought it might have. His shirt was already sticking to his back, and as the small group of men made their way down the path towards the mouth of the gorge of all of them only River looked at all comfortable. But that young woman would look comfortable in the middle of hell, Mal considered. He caught her smiling at him, something rather disconcerting in a situation like this.

_I have a plan._

_Oh, good._ He waited for her to elaborate but she didn't, and Cody jabbed him in the back with Vera to urge him forwards.

Prater was sweating profusely, feeling the wound in his chest nagging with every wrong footfall on the uneven ground. "Couldn't you have landed us closer?" he complained.

Cody wiped his face on his sleeve. "There isn't anywhere flatter close enough."

"You could always have stayed behind," Mal said lightly. "I'd have brought the statue to you."

"Yeah, right." Prater's tone would have withered the Garden of Eden.

"What, don't you trust me?"

"Not in a million years. You might have an arsenal hidden in that temple."

Mal shook his head. "Terrible thing, to lose trust in your fellow man." He stumbled over a loose rock and barely managed to right himself in time. "Be easier with my hands free," he commented.

"Just keep going." Prater skidded on some scree himself, and drew a sharp breath, wincing.

"You should have let Simon take a look at that," Mal said. "He's actually a pretty good doctor for a traitor."

"Then he'll fetch a high price. Terraforming ships are always looking for medics."

"Then you're not planning on letting him and the others go?"

"I'm still considering it."

"Course you are."

River had been staring at Cody, and as they finally reached the coolness of the gorge, she began to mutter to herself. Only one word in ten made sense, but those Prater heard drew his attention.

"… sister … betrayal … theft … blood … ship … run …"

"What's she going on about?" Prater demanded after a couple of minutes.

Mal shrugged. "My albatross? Not sure. She's not got exactly a strong hold on reality, truth be told, and having a baby's loosened it more'n a tad."

"She's insane?"

"Kinda depends on your definition of the word." Mal laughed. "I guess the wind's from the north."

"What?"

"You not up on your Shakespeare, Reed? Can I call you Reed? I feel like we're old friends, the amount of time you've spent trying to kill me."

"You're crazier than she is."

"That's a distinct possibility," Mal agreed. "Except she's pretty good at reading folks."

"What do you mean?"

As they stepped out into the direct sunlight again outside the carved stone façade of _Ling Miao_, River turned and fixed Prater with her huge dark eyes, like bottomless pools that led into infinity. "Twin souls planning to take what isn't theirs. Leave bodies in blood. His quietus make with a bare bodkin."

Prater stared at her, then shot a glare at Cody, who looked innocent.

"You said it yourself, Boss. She's crazy." The young man shrugged.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" He continued to contemplate Cody as they reached the entrance, where he paused and turned to one of the other two men they had with them. "Vann, you stay here. Keep an eye on things."

Vann, tall, bulky and bristling with weapons, nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And if anyone - and I mean _anyone_ - comes out and I ain't with them, kill them. _Dong mah_?"

Vann pulled his rifle around so it nestled in the crook of his arm. "Understood."

"Boss -" Cody began to protest.

"Just taking precautions," Prater said, cutting him off. "Come on. We don't got all day."

"Technically we do as the planet is in geosynchronous orbit so the day lasts continuously, although saying it would be forever is a misnomer as eventually the sun will decay and the probability is that it will expand to engulf all the planets within a specified area." River looked at the various expressions on the men's faces. "I was just saying," she added, walking into the darkness of the temple.

Mal hid a smile and followed her.

---

Ethan could feel his father was off ship, and Auntie River was with him. They were neither of them as worried as they had been, and he could almost hear them planning and plotting what to do. It meant he could concentrate on his mother and the others. Bethie was in the shuttle, but wasn't going to be any help. The woman Sadie was with her, and she was a sucking pit of darkness. Ethan pulled back, feeling guilty for taking down his mental walls, but knowing he had to do something. And maybe, now the bad men were split up, he could.

---

In the cargo bay Hank was trying to get comfortable, but not succeeding. He stifled a moan as his back spasmed again.

"I'm sorry," Simon said.

"What for? You didn't do this."

"But I can't give you a painkiller."

Hank managed a smile. "I'll live."

Burkett, the man with the gun watching them, stirred. "You keep quiet," he ordered.

"We're just talking," Zoe said. "Can't do anyone any harm just talking."

"And I'm telling you to shut up."

Simon wriggled. "If you'd let me get him a painkiller, I could -"

The gun swung in his direction. "You wanna be needing a doctor yourself?"

"Not … particularly."

"Then just keep that pretty mouth of yours closed."

"Can you at least tell me our children are okay?" Kaylee asked, her face drawn.

"Sadie's looking after 'em. That's all you need to know." Burkett gestured again. "Now quiet."

Simon sighed and glanced toward Jayne, who hadn't said a word, which somewhat surprised the young doctor. Then he saw what the big man was looking at. Jasper had left his knife on top of one of the crates after he'd cut Mal and River's ankle bindings. Just lying there, the light glinting along its sharp edge. Simon could almost hear Jayne's mind working. He glanced around, wondering if anyone else had noticed, then saw the intensely worried look on Freya's face. Her eyes were unfocused, staring into nothing, and she had bitten her lip so hard a trickle of blood ran down her chin.

_Frey? _he thought as hard as he could. _What's wrong?_

She turned her face towards him, and his heart missed a beat.

---

On the bridge Jasper was checking out some of the sites Cody had talked about from the Cortex logs. One in particular had caught his attention.

"… and it is said that sharp and sudden death awaits those who disturb the temple of _Ling Miao_, while blood is all that will cleanse the taint of the cursed luck that follows anyone who removes the plaque."

Jasper shivered. Curses. All he needed. They should have … He thought he heard a slight noise behind him and began to turn, then shook his head. Just his imagination. That was all.

If only Prater had listened to him. They could have killed Reynolds and been on their way by now, a hold full of slaves to sell in the markets on the outer Rim. Or better yet, just put it all down to experience and taken that job Kin Po had offered. Yeah, that would have been best. Left Reynolds and his crew to the curse of _Ling Miao_.

---

_Ethan, don't._

_Need to help, Mama._

_Go back, Ethan. For God's sake, go back!_

_Want to help. Have to._

_Ethan, you do what I say and go back to your sister. Or your Daddy will be angry._

_He's not here. I'm the man of the ship now, Mama, and I'm coming._

---

"Ethan?" Simon mouthed, then swallowed hard when Freya nodded, a barely noticeable drop of her head. Her eyes flickered to the doorway to the common area.

Hank glanced towards Burkett, who at that moment was examining something he'd unearthed from his nose. He coughed. "So you think your boss is gonna let us go?" he asked.

Burkett looked up, wiping his finger down his shirt. "How the hell do I know? Far as I'm concerned he can leave you here or toss you out the airlock once we're in space."

Jayne grunted. "Not like Mal hasn't threatened to do that more'n once."

"Not to me," Hank said. "I didn't do anything to make him that angry at me."

"No?" Jayne shook his head. "Like you didn't leave Zoe here while she was in labour to go gallivanting off to town to get into a fight?"

"That wasn't the same."

"We still had to come and drag you out."

"Enough talking," Burkett interrupted.

They ignored him. "I'm surprised you weren't off with some whore or other while River was giving birth." Hank went on quickly, "And how could you do that anyway? You don't know who they've been with."

"Probably people like me."

"You say that like it's a good thing?"

"I said shut up!" Burkett swung his rifle around.

From the corner of his eye Jayne could see a small, frightened face peering from the hatchway. "Make me," he said.

Burkett moved forward, the gun raising, butt first. As he passed the girls, Kaylee suddenly jabbed her feet out, her workboots landing solidly on his knee. He yowled and went down, his head in range of Simon, who kicked him with clinical precision just behind the ear. Burkett lay still.

"He dead?" Hank asked quietly.

"Still breathing," Simon replied.

"Good."

Ethan ran through the doorway. "Mama?"

"The knife," Jayne said quickly, nodding towards the crate. "Cut me free."

The little boy picked up the blade, but shook his head. "Mama first." He knelt by her feet, starting to saw through her bonds.

"What the hell's going on down there?" Sadie called, stepping out of the shuttle and looking over the railing. Her eyes widened as she saw the little boy, the captain's son, intent on releasing his mother. "No!" she shouted, bringing her gun up.

"Ethan!" Kaylee yelled, throwing herself forward to try and put her own body between him and the bullet.

Suddenly a small figure barrelled out of the shuttle, and Bethie shouted, "Leave him alone!" She caught Sadie in the back of the knees, propelling her over the edge.

She attempted to twist in mid-air, but landed on the deck on her back, the wind knocked out of her, the gun clattering from her fingers. As she tried to drag air into protesting lungs, it gave Freya enough time to snap the bindings around her ankles, and she was on her feet in a moment, crossing to the fallen woman and dropping onto her chest, one knee in her throat.

Sadie began to struggle, but she was still dazed from the fall, and Freya wasn't about to let her up. Her face began to congest, hands scrabbling at her assailant, trying to get a purchase on her pants, her shirt, anything to make her stop. She stared into the face above her, trying desperately to make her see she was just a girl, just following orders, just doing what she was told, but the look in Freya's eyes was merciless.

_You threatened my children_, Sadie heard in her mind. _You don't get forgiveness._

The shock of a voice amongst her thoughts galvanised her more_. _Kicking hard, she managed to lift her body enough to reach the knife in the back of her pants, and she ripped it free, about to plunge it into the other woman.

"No," Jayne said, throwing himself forward, all of his own weight coming down on the hand holding the weapon.

Sadie would have screamed if she could have gotten enough breath, feeling bones break in her wrist.

"Enough," Freya said, leaning forward. There was an audible crack that echoed from wall to wall, and Sadie convulsed then went limp.

The cargo bay was shocked into silence, save for Freya's hard breathing as she sat back and a smothered sob from Kaylee. Eventually Jayne rolled away from the body and struggled into a sitting position.

"Ethan," he said softly. "You come cut me free, okay?" The little boy didn't move, just stared at his mother. "Ethan." Still nothing. "Hey, big feller. I need your help here."

Finally the boy dragged his eyes to his Uncle Jayne. "Is … is she …"

"You don't need to worry about that," Jayne said, gentleness no-one had ever heard in his tone. "You come cut me loose."

Ethan swallowed. "'Kay." He hurried to Jayne's back, sawing through the ties in a moment.

"That's a good boy," the big man said, taking the knife and cutting the bindings around his ankles. Immediately he stood, picking Ethan up and taking him to the stairs. "Now I need you to go with Bethie. Need you to take care of all the babies, okay?"

"Jesse …"

"She in the hiding place in your bunk?"

"'Es."

"Then she's safe for now. You go look after the others. _Dong mah_?"

Ethan nodded. "'Kay." His eyes strayed towards the body.

"No, Ethan. You don't do that. That's not for you to see. We'll take care of it. Now you've got a job to do. Go do it." He put the boy on the stairs. "Go on."

"Yes, Uncle Jayne." Ethan ran up to Bethie, grabbing her hand and dragging her into the shuttle.

"What the hell …" Jasper, having heard the commotion, had come down from the bridge and now stood in the open doorway.

Jayne scooped up Sadie's discarded gun in a flash and pointed it at the man above. "You got two choices. You come down here and cut the rest free, or I shoot you and do it myself. Which'd you prefer?"

Jasper slowly raised his hands.

---

The sound of blood bubbling through a fractured throat finally ceased.

"Told you that wasn't the way," Mal said, leaning on the wall. "But do you listen? No." He crossed his arms. They'd had to cut him free in the hall of the skulls so he could go into the tunnel. It was amazing just how much he could get away with because they were torn between ultimate avarice and total distrust, and that very fact had allowed him to relax a little. He saw River smile.

Cody stepped gingerly back through the centre tunnel. "Can I shoot him? Just a little bit. In the leg or something."

"You do that and I won't be in a position to show you anything," Mal pointed out.

"Gorramit," Prater mumbled, dragging the com unit from his pocket. "Vann." He waited for a moment. "Vann." There was no response. "Jasper. _Hun zhang_, anyone?"

"They can't hear you," River said. "The striations in the rock throw all electromagnetic waves into flux and if there is the slightest alteration in the signal strength -"

"What?"

"The coms don't work down here," Mal translated. "Had the same problem myself."

"And you didn't say?"

"You didn't ask."

"Just a flesh wound," Cody was almost begging.

Prater took a deep breath, holding it for as long as he could before releasing it slowly. "Which way?" he finally asked.

"To the right." Mal extended an arm. "After you."

"You first."

Mal shrugged and started forward down the tunnel, feeling River at his back. _Plan?_

_Soon._

_River …_

_Soon. And don't make faces._

Just to be contrary he continued his eye roll.

It was only a few minutes and they were at the end chamber.

"Don't step on the sill," River warned.

"Why, what happens?" Cody asked, looking down.

"I don't know."

He glared at her, and she had no problems reading what he wanted to do to her. Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Mal moved carefully into the room and to one side, River following him to stand close. Prater and Cody took huge steps over the rough edge of the opening then stood immobile, staring at the statue. The sunlight still angled down through the vent, making the gems sparkle, the gold luminous, aching to be touched. Even Mal, knowing it wasn't real, that it was a trap, could feel the tug of need.

Cody coughed slightly. "Boss, we just gonna stand here and admire it, or what?"

Prater dragged his gaze from the prize, and looked across at Mal. "Plaque first?" he asked.

Mal nodded. "Deactivates something or other," he lied glibly. "Give it to me. I'll -"

"No." Prater pointed at River. "She can do it."

"You really don't trust me at all, do you?" Mal said, a half-smile playing around his lips.

"Not even a little bit. Cody."

The young man drew his knife, stepping behind River and cutting the ties around her wrists. "Make one wrong move and you'll regret it, sweetheart." He ran the edge of his blade up her forearm, not breaking the skin, just promising.

"Not yours," she responded, rubbing her wrists. She turned to Prater. "Well?"

Prater handed her the plaque, and for just a moment she studied it, hearing the screams in her head.

"What was that?" Cody asked, turning on his heel to stare down the dark tunnel.

"Nothing," she said, crossing the chamber and putting it into the waiting niche. "It's happy to be home," she added as she stepped away until her back was against the wall.

"You really _are_ crazy," Cody said, the skin crawling up his spine as she smiled sweetly at him.

Prater licked his lips. "Now for the statue."

"Boss, wait. What if it's a trap?" Cody shook his head. "I mean, it's just sitting there. What if -"

Mal looked over at River, who blinked, just once. "For the love of … _I'll_ get it," he said, moving forward.

"No," Prater ordered. "You stay right where you are. Cody, cover them. I'll get it."

"Boss …"

"Do what you're told!"

Mal glanced quickly at River as the man reached for the gold statue.

_Against the wall_, he heard her say in his mind.

As Prater touched the metal, pulling it towards him, Mal moved back, feeling the rough stone scrape his shoulders even as he became aware of a small vibration running through the rock.

"Boss …" Cody warned. "I really don't think -"

"It's beautiful," Prater breathed, taking the weight more. Then there was nothing beneath his feet as a large section of floor dropped away, and he was falling, a scream ripped from his throat. "Help me!"

Mal leaned gingerly forward and looked into the hole. Four or five feet down there was a spur of rock, and Prater had managed to grab hold. "Huh."

"Help me!" Prater shouted again. "Cody! Help me!" He could feel his hands slipping.

Cody tried to move, but it was as if he was trying to walk against a high wind. Each time he lifted a foot to swing it forwards, something pushed at him, and he stepped back instead. Staring wildly about, his gaze landed on River, whose dark eyes were fixed unblinking on him. He tried to bring his gun around, to shoot her, stop whatever it was she was doing, but his muscles didn't want to obey him. Instead he was moving slowly, inexorably, backwards towards the doorway. "Stop it," he ground out between clenched teeth. "_Chou bi_."

"No."

Just one word, and he felt terror wash through him. Another step back, and his foot pressed down onto the sill of the opening.

"River, what are you -" Mal began, but stopped as a sound like a small explosion echoed through the chamber, and he turned towards Cody Dean.

The young man was standing still, his eyes wide, startled, his mouth open. He looked down at the front of his shirt, where it had been pushed forward without breaking the fabric. He touched it gently, almost reverently.

Mal watched in horrified fascination as something dripped onto the tented material, and even before Cody looked up he knew it was blood, slipping in thick streams from a mouth full with it. The youthful killer tried to say something, to get words out past the liquid pulsing into his throat, drowning him, but nothing would come. Finally, like a tree cut at its base, he fell forwards, dead before he hit the ground.

"He would have slaughtered us all," River said quietly, picking Vera up from where she had fallen from nerveless fingers.

"I know, _xiao nu_," Mal replied, staring at the wooden stake driven clean through the young man's body. He turned back to the hole in the floor, stepping carefully to the edge.

Prater glared at him. "Is he dead?" he asked.

"'Less he can get up and dance with a hole the size of my fist through him, yeah, I'd pretty much have to say he is." Mal squatted down onto his heels. "Which more or less leaves you."

"Help me out."

"Why?"

"Because you're not a murderer." Prater's fingers slipped and he had to scrabble to hold on. He risked a glance behind, down the pit, catching a glimpse of sharp stakes in the bright shaft of sunlight. One had a skull attached, the point piercing the empty eye socket. "You didn't kill me before. You won't this time."

"You threatened my family. All of them, even my children." Mal felt a cold thread run down his belly. "You would have sold them as slaves. Apart from what you had planned for me." He put his head onto one side. "And you think I should save you?" He stood up and brushed his hands down his pants. "Jayne says I'm too sentimental. If he were here he'd be thinking I was going to get River to hand me the backpack, undo the straps and use it as a rope so you could climb out." He paused. "He'd be wrong. River, give me Vera."

She held it out to him wordlessly.

Prater swallowed. "So you're going to kill me anyway?"

Mal shook his head. "No. Like you said, I ain't a murderer." Leaning forward over the hole, Mal knew he was right. The length of the Callahan gave him enough reach for the end of the barrel to touch the gold statue, and he was able to push it back into its niche. In front of him the stone floor began to grind back up into place.

"No!" Prater shouted. "You can't! Reynolds! You can't do this! Rey-" His screaming voice was cut off.

Mal turned to look at River. "Think he can get out?"

"No."

"Shame."

"Yes."

"Still got that feller out the front to get past, though."

"I think he's already been dealt with."

"Yeah?" He raised one eyebrow. "They okay?"

"Waiting for us."

"Then how come I can't hear her?"

_Didn't want to distract you, xin gan._

Mal smiled and held out his hand. "Come on, River. Time to go home."

As he spoke the planet moved minutely, and the light on the gold statue winked out.


	14. Chapter 14

Aegis was just a memory, and Persephone their destination, when Kaylee sought out Mal. He was sitting in the dining area, a cup of coffee in front of him, contemplating the last few days, but mainly the impact it had had on Ethan. The little boy had never seen death before, and from what the others had said, he knew it was his mother had killed Sadie. Had watched it happen. And now …

"Got one for me?" Kaylee asked, smiling at him from the doorway.

He looked up and pushed his chair back. "Plenty in the pot. I'll -"

She held up a greasy hand. "No, you sit. I can get it." She walked behind the counter and took a mug from the cupboard.

Mal pulled the chair back under the table, the legs squealing a little. "My boat okay?"

"Everything's running fine, Cap." Her grin widened. "Better'n fine, in fact. I'm just tweakin'."

"Good to know."

"I'm pretty sure Serenity's just glad it's all over." She sat down opposite him, blowing on her coffee. "Think that Jasper's gonna be sensible?"

Mal smiled, remembering climbing up the path from the gorge towards the two ships, Freya at his side, River and Jayne just behind. His legs seemed to weigh a tonne, but the sight of Zoe, Hank and Simon holding guns on Prater's remaining crew made him feel a whole lot better.

"Well, now, seems to me we've been in this situation before," Mal said, standing and looking down at the men sitting cross-legged on the dirt, their hands on top of their heads. "Except I'm not all that convinced I should be giving you a third chance."

Jasper looked up. "But I helped," he insisted. "I called Warren here, told him to open up so your people could get in."

"You had a gun to your head," Zoe pointed out. "Anyone'd help in that situation."

"So what's to stop me just killing you like the others, and leaving your mouldering corpses here?" Mal went on.

"They're dead?" Jasper asked.

"Seems to be the case. You wanna give me a good reason why you shouldn't join 'em?"

"'Cause I'm pretty?"

"See, the thing is, if'n I let you go, am I gonna regret it like I did with Prater?"

Jasper shook his head vehemently. "No, no, sir. This was his vendetta. Not ours."

Mal looked into Jasper's face, hope that he was going to see another day written large, even though the man's eyes were scared, and he sighed inwardly. "Too much killing," he murmured, then straightened up. "I see any of you again, I end you, without a thought. It's a big 'verse out there, so keeping out of our way shouldn't be hard."

Jasper had started to nod as soon as Mal spoke, and now looked like one of those Geisha dolls. "Oh, we will. We will."

"Mal, don't'cha think we should -" Jayne put in, protesting.

"Decision's made," the captain of Serenity said firmly. "I'm taking Jasper's word here. But just to make sure …"

Mal came back to the present and looked up at Kaylee. "What exactly did you do to their ship?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just removed the hard baffle, screwed up the fuel remix, bent the anterior connector out of wack … and a couple of other things."

"So nothing much."

"Nope. Good mechanic'd have her up and running in a day or two."

"And if they ain't got a mechanic, good or otherwise?"

Kaylee shrugged. "They've got a beacon."

Mal laughed. "I wonder how they'd explain to the Feds what they were doing on a protected site?"

Kaylee giggled along with him. "Be an interesting conversation."

"That it would."

The young woman sobered a little. "Do you think anyone'll ever find the bodies?" she asked softly.

"They're inside the tunnels so, maybe, maybe not. Honestly, I don't know, little Kaylee. That place's probably got more secrets than we found, and I wouldn't want to bet on there not being a few more corpses around." He smiled a little. "Might make future archaeologists scratch their heads in wonder, I dare say."

Kaylee bit the inside of her lip, then said, "Do you … I mean, I know it sounds crazy now, but … do you think we _were_ cursed?"

Mal put down his mug. "Things happen, Kaylee. Just because Hank was going on about curses, we started to look for things that were going wrong. Even if they weren't really."

"I know, but what about that bunch of antibiotics? Jayne running his hand onto something, then them only being water, he could've died."

"Hank's checked on the Cortex. Seems a whole consignment was meant to be recalled 'cause it was faulty. We were just unlucky and got some 'fore it was."

She wasn't about to let it go, though. "And the water pump?"

"You tell me. You fixed it. Was it due to bust?"

"Well, yeah, there was wear on it, and I s'pose it was gonna … but Bethie pushing Ethan like that?"

"They were picking up on Hank's worry, everyone's concern … and they were fighting before this."

"Not that much."

"A bit. Kaylee, Bethie's his big sister, to all intents and purposes. They're bound to argue, it's the nature of families. But it don't mean there was a curse." He leaned forward, putting his large hand onto hers. "'Sides, we put the damn thing back, got away with little more than a few scrapings. I think you can stop worrying."

"And now?" She looked into his blue eyes. "Ethan?"

Mal sat back, a huge sigh escaping him. "Yeah."

"As much as I wish she hadn't, Bethie's seen hurt through others' eyes," Kaylee went on. "She understands what we have to do sometimes. But Ethan … it was his Ma, Mal."

"I know." He shook his head. "I've tried to talk to him about it, but he won't. He ain't even slept in his own bed."

"I know. He's been in with Bethie since we left."

Mal stared into his mug. "He won't even be in the same room as Frey, and it's killing her." He finally looked up. "I think he's afraid of her."

"Maybe it'll be better now." Kaylee reached out this time, hating to see the hurt written across his face. "She's gonna try and talk to him."

"Now?" His eyes widened and he pushed his chair back, hearing it fall over behind him but ignoring it as he strode from the room.

---

Freya leaned on the doorway to Bethie's room. "Hi."

Bethie looked up from the lettered blocks spread across the bed. "Hi, Auntie Frey."

"What're you two up to?" She smiled at her son, but he didn't look up from the teddy he was holding.

"Building Ethan's walls back up," Bethie explained. "So he can't see."

"That's good," Freya said encouragingly, trying to sound normal even though pain was flaring through her. "That's good." She swallowed. "Can I … can I come in?"

"Course." Bethie moved up enough so there was room to sit down next to them.

"Thanks." She stepped inside and lowered herself carefully onto the bed. "Is it going well? The walls, I mean."

"Okay." Bethie sighed. "Ethan won't concentrate."

"I can understand that." Freya reached out to put her hand on his knee, but he jerked away. She could barely contain the agony that caused, more than anything Wing had ever done to her, or Lon, or even the Academy.

Bethie stifled a moan, catching the edges. "Auntie Frey …"

"Sorry." Freya closed her eyes, trying to take back control. When she opened them again she looked at Ethan. "So … your Daddy wants to know when you're going to come sleep in your own room."

Ethan shrugged, twisting the ear of his teddy. "Don't know," he muttered.

"Only he misses you. So does Jesse." She paused. "So do I."

"Not far."

"No, no. That's true. But …" She licked her lips. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I wish you hadn't had to see that. God, you have no idea how much. And if I could go back, do it differently, I would. But you're my son. I will do anything to protect you. She would have hurt you, and I couldn't let that happen."

"'S." He was barely audible, his head still down.

"I know you're afraid. Afraid of me. But I'm still the same person I was before. The one you came crying to when you hurt your hand. The one who bathed you, changed your diaper, fed you. The one who loves you more than anything." She took a breath. "Ethan, you have to understand. There are bad things. You're so young, and you shouldn't be made to know about them, and I will do my best to make sure you don't, but … Ethan, please look at me."

He finally dragged his head up, his blue eyes suspiciously moist.

She went on. "You and Jesse and your Daddy … you're my life. Nothing else matters. And I'll do whatever I must to protect you." She stared into his face, but wouldn't look, wouldn't peek. Couldn't see the trust they'd had shattered by that one act into a million pieces.

"'Kay," he said, dropping his head again.

Freya sighed and stood up. "I'd better go and … do something else," she said, her heart breaking. She looked at Bethie. "Take care of him."

"Course, Auntie Frey." The little girl waited until they were alone, then she hit Ethan on the arm.

"What's that for?" he complained, rubbing the place.

"Your Momma's hurting."

"I know."

"Do you want her to?"

Ethan glared at her. "No. But -"

"I pushed you off the chair," Bethie interrupted quickly. "And you've forgiven me."

"It's not the same."

"Why not? She's an adult. Adults have to do things they don't want to keep us safe. And she needs you." Bethie took his hand. "You tell me she doesn't."

Ethan looked into her brown eyes, and let his walls down a little, reaching out. His jaw dropped. "Mama …" he whispered, scrambling off the bed. "Mama!"

She turned in the doorway to the cargo bay, saw her son running towards her. He stopped a few feet away. "Ethan?"

"Do you … do you want my teddy?" he asked, holding out the toy. "To keep you company. Make you feel better."

She swallowed hard. "I … thanks."

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry." His little face screwed up. "I'm, sorry, Mama." He reached out, and suddenly he was in her arms, held tightly against her.

"Oh Ethan!" Her hand was in his hair, and she was crying with relief.

"I'm sorry, Mama," he said, over and over, sobbing as tears rolled down his cheeks to soak into her shirt. "I'm sorry."

Mal watched from the stairs by the infirmary, blinking hard. Then Freya held out a hand, and he hurried to join them, putting his arms around them both.

"What's going on?" Jayne asked, peering out through the infirmary door.

Simon pulled his hand back around so that he could finish redressing it. "I think it means things are getting back to normal."

River swung Caleb slowly backwards and forwards. "Family again," she said softly.

"Hey, great." Jayne grinned. "Maybe now I can get that party going."

---

"Where is the big guy?" Mal shifted Jesse to the other hip. "This was his idea. If he thinks he can get away with not coming -"

"He said he had something to get." Kaylee grinned as they walked down the street, Persephone's lights blazing all around them. "Probably a gift."

Mal shuddered. "Hope not. This I can just about handle. But presents too …"

Kaylee looked a little downhearted. "You don't want gifts?"

"From you, okay," Mal said quickly, stepping on the guilt. "That's fine."

She brightened up. "Good, 'cause I think there just might be."

"Pressies!" Bethie said happily, skipping on ahead.

Mal sighed heavily. "You know, maybe if I was a four-year old girl, this wouldn't be so bad."

Freya half-closed one eye, as if imagining it. "Hmmn. Pig-tails. And a gingham dress."

"Don't forget the ankle socks," River added, wafting by, Caleb in his sling across her chest.

"Ankle socks …"

"Don't even go there," Mal warned. "If Jayne hadn't got witnesses, we wouldn't even be here."

"It's your birthday, Mal," Freya said, adjusting his collar as best she could one-handed, since Ethan was holding tightly to the other. "You're going to go in there, and you're going to enjoy yourself."

Mal sighed. "Do I get any kind of choice in this?"

"No."

"Doesn't me being captain mean anything?"

"Not a one."

Mal looked into Jesse's eyes. "You gonna treat your poor old Pa like this when you get older?" he asked.

Jesse grinned. "Daddy!" she said, and patted his cheek.

"Just don't go thinking you'll be always be able to get round me that way," he warned, but couldn't stop the smile on his lips.

"We're here!" Kaylee announced.

Mal looked up at the frontage, the bright lights and the flashing sign announcing this to be _Luigi's Bar and Grille_. "That ain't how you spell grille," he pointed out. "And it looks like a -" He didn't get any further on account of Freya's finger across his lips.

"Jayne went to a lot of trouble to arrange this," she said. "And it looks fine. Just a bit … gaudy."

"Come on, Mal," Simon urged.

"It's time, sir," Zoe agreed.

He looked at her. "I thought you at least would be on my side."

"Are we taking sides?" Hank asked. "Only if we are, I want Zoe on mine." He bounced Ben a little. "And Kaylee. And Jayne."

"Hank …"

"Yeah, Mal?"

"Just get inside."

The doors opened and let out a gust of faintly scented air, and the crew of Serenity hurried inside.

"Mal! Freya!" Dillon Malfrey stood up, waving at them. "Over here!"

"I don't believe this." Mal stood stock still, shaking his head. At the long table all down one side of the restaurant sat not only Dillon and his partner, Breed, but their general factotum Callum, as well as Sir Warrick Harrow, smiling into his beard. More surprising, though, were …

"Mal!" Inara got up and hugged him, her delicate perfume warring with the general ambience. "Happy birthday!"

"How did you … when …" Mal was almost speechless.

Sam Nazir was grinning at him. "Yesterday," he said. "Did you really think we'd miss this?"

Inara let him go and pointed down the end of the table where a group of suspiciously familiar people sat. "Or them," she added.

"Theo?"

The actor/manager of the Hawkins troupe inclined his head. "Noni insisted," he said, indicating the girl sitting next to him. "How could I say no?"

Toby, Etta, Mikel, Pol … they all waved at him.

"Mal, I think you'd better sit down before you fall down," Freya advised.

Simon led him to a chair and waited while he lowered himself into it before taking Jesse and putting her down on a bench next to Hope and Ben.

"I … I don't know what to say about this," Mal stammered, then caught himself. "It's good to have friends."

"That's what we are," Dillon said, smiling widely. "And we weren't going to let this day go by without some kind of celebration, so when Jayne waved me, I said I'd make the arrangements."

"You did this?"

"I thought it was suitable." He winked at Freya. "Remember?"

She laughed. "How could I forget?"

Mal glared at her. "You really have to tell me what you used to get up to," he threatened.

"Maybe later," she promised. "As a birthday treat."

"Hmmn," he growled.

"Happy birthday, Uncle Mal," Noni called. "I really hope you don't mind all this."

"Mind?" Hank waved his hands in the air. "Noni, you should've seen him. We practically had to drag him out of - ow!" He glared at Zoe.

Mal felt Freya's hand on his thigh, squeezing gently, and he sighed. "No, Noni. I don't mind. As long as it don't get to be a habit, that is."

Kaylee beamed. "Well, it isn't every day your captain gets to -"

"Honey, don't do that," Simon said quickly, taking a spoon from Hope's hand where she was trying to push it up her nose.

"And where is Jayne?" Dillon asked. "I would have thought he'd be the first here."

River shrugged. "He said he had …" Her face fell a little. "Oh dear."

"There he is," Hank interrupted as the door opened.

Jayne bounded in. "Hey, hope I ain't missed nothing." He grinned. "Just had to wait for 'em to finish this." He pulled something out from behind his back. Something that floated on a ribbon in his fist. Something big and round and shiny, that said '_Happy 40th Birthday_' on it in big, round, shiny letters. It drifted towards the ceiling and the entire restaurant exploded into applause.

"Jayne …" Mal hissed, wishing he was wearing his gun. "I said no balloons."

The big man sat down, his brow furrowed. "Really? Did ya?"

"I remember distinctly."

"Oh." He grinned wider. "Oh, well, too late now."

"Jayne …"


	15. Epilogue

"He ain't let her out of his sight."

"No."

"What's he afraid of?"

"That she'll do it again."

Jayne shook his head. "Can't help feelin' like it's my fault." He lay back on the bed, watching River get undressed. Since Caleb she'd been exercising gently, doing some weights and more dancing in the dark after everyone had gone to bed, and her body was now back to its usual litheness. Not that he was thinking about her naked flesh appearing. At least, not with any conscious part of his mind. "If'n I'd been a bit quicker, I might've been able to get to that knife 'fore Ethan even got down to the bay."

River sighed, turning in the light to look at her husband. "How?" she asked simply.

"Don't know. Done something. Maybe got that fool of a guard's attention better, maybe … hell, maybe even got it in my teeth, like one of Bethie's pirates."

She unclipped her hair so it fell around her shoulders, her face. "And Sadie would have shot you."

"P'raps," he growled. "But I coulda made a difference. Not let that boy see what his Ma had to do."

"She had no choice."

"Ain't saying she did. And you know I ain't. Just … River, if Caleb has to see something like that, see us taking folks down like we have to sometimes … ain't sure how I'd take it." He put his hands behind his head. "Just wish I coulda done something."

"There are too many _what if's_ on board this ship already," River said, sliding into the bed, fitting her form along his, as if they were one being, one mind, both more than the sum of their parts. "What if Mal hadn't landed Serenity at Eavesdown that day? Simon wouldn't have taken passage, I wouldn't have woken up on board, and everything would be changed. Wash and Book would still be alive, the Alliance would never have let the Miranda information out, and Mal would be …" Her voice faded.

He looked down at her. "Be what?"

"Harder. Not Mal. Miranda gave him something to fight for, but Freya gave him something better – a reason to live."

"Ya mean Inara would never've been the one?"

"They weren't meant for each other. Without me as the catalyst, she would have stayed at the Training House, but she'd not have found love."

Jayne rumbled a laugh deep in his chest. "That what she's got with Sam?"

"Oh, yes. And they know each other, better than most couples."

"'Cept us."

"Except us." She pulled his hand down, the one with the healing scar in the centre of his palm. Gently, tenderly, she placed her lips on it, sending a shiver up his spine. "I wouldn't have you," she added quietly, her words making his skin hum.

"You feel like that?" he asked gently. "Like it's your fault?"

"I did. When Wash and Book died. When so many were killed in the fight with the Reavers … I knew it was my fault."

"But not now."

"No. You've healed so many of my cracks that I understand. I didn't make me the way I am. What I choose to do is different, but not what I have no control over."

"Freya chose to end Sadie."

"Or see her son hurt. There's no comparison." She kissed his palm again. "There isn't one of us who would have done it differently."

"Ain't that the truth."

She studied his long lifeline, hoping for once that something so unscientific as palm reading were true. "For love."

"Moonbrain, you know how I feel about you, don't you?" he said haltingly, looking down into her dark hair. "I know I ain't said it enough, and it should be every day, every minute of every day, but I'm just a merc with no more brains than –"

She put her hand softly on his mouth. "You are mine. That's all that matters. And I know you love me." She lifted her hand again to show him the tattoo around her ring finger. "For always."

"Always, moonbrain."

She snuggled back against him. "My Jayne."

"My River." He pulled her close. "So … Ethan's gonna get over it?"

"He will. He won't look at things in quite the same light, but he knows why." She sighed, her breath making his nipple pucker. "Sam spoke to him, you know."

"Yeah, figured that. Day after the party, weren't it?"

"Freya asked him to."

"Did it help?"

"Sam said he wasn't a children's psychiatrist, but then Ethan isn't a normal child."

"What, you mean with Frey being a Reader like you?"

"And having a father like Mal."

Jayne grinned. "Gonna tell him you said that."

"He wouldn't believe you. I'm his albatross."

"Yeah, right." He sobered again. "Ethan's a good kid."

"And he'll be fine. We just treat him the way we always did." She lifted her head to rest her chin on his pectoral muscle. "And now I want you to kiss me."

"That an order?"

"It is."

"Then maybe I'd better obey." He leaned forward, feeling her hand in the hairs on his chest. "Kinda like those sorta orders," he added, his lips thrumming against hers, then raising an eyebrow as River pulled back a little. "What?"

"You might have to hold that thought for a few minutes," she said, sighing.

"What?"

A baby crying in his crib filled the small shuttle.

"That."

"_Da shou quaing_," Jayne swore under his breath as his wife slid from the bed and attended to their son.

---

"Ethan's dreaming." Mal closed the door to the nursery, sliding it across on well-oiled runners.

"I know." Freya paused in brushing her hair. Longer now, at least from when she'd joined Serenity's crew, but it still only just brushed the nape of her neck. Now, at least, it curled here and there.

"Sadie?" Mal took the brush from her and moved behind, running it through the tangles that always managed to appear, the repetitive action seeming to soothe both of them.

She nodded. "It's my fault," she said softly.

"Yeah, guess it is."

She twisted her head so fast it pulled on a knot and she scowled a little. "What?"

"You're right." Mal spoke evenly. "He saw you kill someone."

"I … I don't believe –"

"What, you were wanting me to talk you out of the guilt?"

"Well, I –"

"Can't say you didn't. Wishing I could, but I can't."

Her jaw dropped. "Mal –"

"Not that you had a choice," he went on, ignoring her interruptions. "So there's no point in beating yourself up over it, is there?"

"He was afraid of me!"

"And he ain't now. Frey, honey …" He moved so he was facing her before going down onto his heels to look deeply into her hazel eyes. "He knows. Why it happened. Why you had to do what you did."

"But in front of him …" She shook her head.

"_Ai ren_, he knows I'd've done the same."

"Yes, but …" She stopped, biting her lip.

"But I'm a man?" he finished for her. "Nice of you to notice. 'Cept it's more'n a little outdated concept, don't you think?"

"Maybe." It was a grudging allowance.

He took her hand in his, his fingers running over the wedding and engagement rings. "Ethan knows what Sadie would have done. Wish he didn't, but he knew she was a threat to all of you."

"It doesn't actually make me feel any better."

"Don't reckon there's much that can. But people do what they need to. Bethie did."

The image of the little girl on the catwalk outside the shuttle, Sadie falling, her face contorted in anger, not fear … "He's so young. They're both so young." It was barely a whisper.

"That they are. But they're both gonna grow up now, thanks to you, here in the bosom of their family, with the rest of the kids." He paused. "Only don't tell Jayne I said bosom." He went on, "Frey, you saved him."

"I didn't –"

"I _know_. You think they ain't told me? Sadie would've shot him. No doubt about that." He pushed the wave of nausea at nearly losing his son back down into the pit of his belly. "And he knows."

"I'd do it again," she admitted, this time not even a whisper, just a susurration of breath.

"I know. Me too."

"Even if I thought he'd never forgive me."

"Hurts, doesn't it?" When she nodded he pulled her down to the floor with him, resting her against his chest.

"Yes." She clung to him, her hands wrapped in his shirt just like his son did.

"Wish I could take it for you. And I wish they could stay innocent forever. Doesn't work like that though."

"Why not? Why do they have to see all the hardness, the darkness in the 'verse? Why can't they stay, well, unsullied?"

He smiled slightly, just a curve of the lips. "Frey, there ain't a one of us don't wish that. I think it comes with being parents, with being a family. But we've all had to grow up, some sooner than others." He tightened his grasp on her, resting his chin on the top of her head. "And he loves you. You're his Mama."

"I just don't think I'm what he thought I was."

"None of us are. I mean, just to look at me, you'd think I was captain of my own boat. But appearances can be deceptive." He was relieved to hear her chuckle. "He knows you, _xin gan_. Knows you love him more'n anything. More'n me, even."

"I wouldn't say that." She wriggled uncertainly. "It's just … different."

"Hell, I know that. It's why I don't get jealous."

She looked up into his face. "Would you?"

"You said once you were jealous of every woman I ever knew. You remember? When that green-eyed monster of yours was out for an airing?"

"I remember."

"Well, not only am I jealous of every man who's ever had your affection – even Wash, as it turns out – but every man you've ever spoken to, even just looked at." He laughed. "I'd go so far as to say every man who only happened to be breathing the same air on the same planet as you." He kissed her forehead. "Can't help it. You've gotten under my skin."

She smiled. "How come you always know the right thing to say?"

"I thought I didn't. I always considered I put my foot in my mouth more often than not."

"That's Simon."

"No, let's be fair here. Hank does it too, and I've heard Jayne being berated more'n once by a ninety pound young woman. I think it's something of an inevitability among the men of Serenity. I think we get infected by it soon as we step foot on board."

"Is this what age does for you? Brings wisdom?" she teased.

"You tell me. You got there first." He yelped as she pinched him. "So how're Ethan's dreams now?" he asked, his voice softening.

Freya unfocused, just listening to her son. She exhaled. "Better. He's dreaming about Inara." She raised her eyebrows. "Now _I'm_ jealous."

"Don't tell me. Puppies?"

"Lots of them."

"Do I see us becoming a two-dog boat 'fore too long?"

"You want me to look into my crystal ball?" she countered.

"Maybe. Although I'd take it as a good answer if you saw us getting to bed sometime soon." He shifted a little. "This deck's damn hard. And cold."

Freya, far too comfortable to want to move any time in the near future, just smiled. "Maybe in a while," she said, resting her head back against his chest.

"If'n I get something I shouldn't from sitting here, it'll be your fault."

"I have it on good authority it's never my fault," she pointed out.

His laugh bubbled up his chest, and suddenly she was on her back, his form above her. "You know you're gonna pay for that, don't you?"

"Hope so." She tugged his shirt from inside his pants. "God, I hope so."


End file.
